Arafax Deep
by Makone
Summary: A world where nightmares come to life. A place where dreams are forever. A time where trust is hard to find. One night with one goal. The deadline is dawn and they will make it only if they have eachother. Ticktock, ticktock. PLS REVIEW! Oh,and now PART 2
1. Life Sucks

Okay. I understand that this format may be kinda hard to read but I just wanted to get something out there cause I haven't for a while now. I promise to upload a better formatted and proofread version once I get my other computer back, but as for now, this is all I got.   
  
Uh, in this story Videl has a lot of prejudices, none of which I am part of. I'm just trying to add some humor.  
  
I kinda wrote this while in a semi comatic state (I had a severe concussion ::squeeeee::) so it may be strange ::shruggs:: oh well. Enjoy!  
  
**Part One  
**  
A flaming sphere of golden yellow illuminates the world with its presence. As it rises, slowly spreading its glistening beams across the earth, it awakens me with its light. It is all I have known, it is constant. At times it may seem to disappear as it lowers itself behind the horizon, leaving a sky blanketed with opaque darkness in its place. Yet, I do not need the site of its piercing rays to know it still burns . It may not be visible during the darkest of nights, but it remains ablaze and will never let me rise alone.   
  
Occasionally, the clouds may hide the warmth that is has to give to me. I know, though, that beyond those clouds is a light that never dims, a light that can warm my soul with the slightest touch.   
  
Eventually, the clouds will part, and once again I will be able to look up to the sky, knowing that it still remains, blazing down upon me stronger then ever. Therefore, it has become the most reliable thing in my life, since there will never be a day that it will stop shining.   
  
There may be times it may feel as if it has, though, and that it is no longer providing me with the warmth and the light that I have learned to appreciate. Moments like these, when my world is dark and cold, are the moments that I must remember the feeling of its rays upon my skin and the brilliant reflections it brings forth. With these memories I will be able to move forward and brighten my own days, until, as I can expect it will, it returns to rest above me, watching over me.   
  
It has become something that I will cherish and hold dear to me forever. But all things must come to an end. How they end it doesn't really matter. Fast, slow, in misery or pure bliss, you just end. And were do you go from there...where do I go from here...  
  
Videl was awaken from her dream-like state by a light tapping on her door. "Miss Satan," the maid whispered, " it's time to get up." The quiet voice barely reached her ears.   
  
She slowly opened her eyes, but quickly raised a hand to cover her face from the blinding morning sun.  
  
"Hell hole," Videl mumbled.   
  
After allowing her eyes a chance to adjust to the light, she arose from the warmth of her navy blue comforter and slowly padded her way to the bathroom. Her small frame eventually appeared in the full length mirror showing her tired blue eyes and unruly raven black hair knotted down past her shoulders. Dark bags hung underneath her eyes making the lack of sleep she had last night rather evident, and her baggy pajamas are wrinkled beyond the point of salvation. But even though she looked like, for the time being, a zombie from the black lagoon, she was still a very beautiful woman. Her father always used to tell her how much she reminded him of her mother. He would say the resemblance was uncanny. But with her mother gone, everything changed. Videl couldn't stand the thought of her mother never coming back. It was like a hook tugging at her soul. Painfully jerking away at her lonely existance.   
  
Her mother was an amazing and unique person. She taught Videl how to do many strange things that a girl at the age of twelve should not have known. One such thing was hotwiring a car. Videl could work any gun, defuse almost any bomb, and learn any new martial arts technique in moments.   
  
Everyone admired Videl. She was rich, pretty, strong, smart, and the daughter of a celebrity. But Videl hated her life with a passion. Severe passion. No one truly admired Videl for who she was. Girls only befriended her due to her money, guys only talked to her so they could meet her father, and adults only noticed her for her fighting abilities. No one liked Videl for who she was and in a sense she felt no one liked her at all. Her Father took losing her mother a bit differently. He became a self-centered, egotistical windbag with an ego the size of his afro. After a while he pretty much forgot that he even had a daughter. He would travel the world inspecting his dojos, and leave Videl alone for months at a time. But after a while, it became a typical thing in her life.  
  
[" If only others see him like I do." ]  
  
Videl hoped one day that she might be lucky and her father would somehow slip, leaking out a big bad secret showing the world what a dipshit he really was.   
  
Sighing and giving one last glance at the mirror, she slowly worked her way to the bathroom, stopping only momentarily to retrieve a change of clothes from her closet and to grab a towel or two so she could take her routine morning shower. Entering the bathroom, she removed her clothing and tossed them into the hamper. Turning on the shower, she promptly closed the glass door so that no heat escaped into the bone chilling world.  
  
She let out a breathy sigh and lathered her hair with a palm full of her favorite raspberry scented shampoo. "Same thing everyday. Nothing ever changes in this place," Videl grumbled, dissatisfied with the world once again, "It's like an endless circle of events." In her mind, the sun would arise every morning signaling the beginning of a "new" day. But nothing was ever "new". You got up, went to school, congregated with those hormone driven monkeys, came home not inspired to do anything, possibly get some entertainment by doing martial arts training or by telling her father what a dippis he is -just to see what color he turns-, and go to sleep to continue the circle of never-ending fame, fortune, and loneliness that possessed her life.  
  
As she tilted her head back to rinse her hair free of the suds, she gazed at the ceiling to allow her thoughts wander once again to more depressing and unsatisfactory things. In her mind, contrary to others, it was normal to be disconsolate. There was no "happy" so to say. No laughing or enjoying friendships. Heck, she couldn't even remember the last time she smiled. Well, at least voluntarily.   
  
["....at least you won't get wrinkles," ]her mind implied, but then again, she didn't really give a damn about how she looked either.   
  
The one tidbit of wisdom her mother had given her was, 'It doesn't really matter how you look, it's personality that counts.' Videl lived by that, always believing that one day, maybe she could get rid of the 'Daughter of Hurcule' status, and become 'Videl' in herself, totally away from her father's influence.   
  
Once she was finished shampooing her hair, she casually stopped the warm water. Then she stepped out the shower, dried off, and wrapped her raven black hair into a fluffy white towel.  
  
" Hmph...." she grunted as she threw on her baggy T-shirt and black spandex shorts. The baggy, white, cotton shirt did not compliment her body what-so-ever. It aimlessly hung beneath her hips and covered up any form of femininity a normal eight-teen year old girl would have loved to flaunt. The black shorts went to about her knees, only truly allowing part of her shins to be seen. The T-shirt covered her thighs and her green buckle-up fighting boots covered up most of her shins. Not the most glamorous outfit, but it worked for her.  
  
Grabbing a brush, she worked it threw her damp hair and tossed it into a pony-tail leaving the shorter strands to dangle freely in her face accenting her blue eyes. While retreating from her room, she shoved her black fighting gloves into her backpack, slung it around her right shoulder, and started to make her way through the mansion thinking there has to be a magical short-cut to get to the kitchen in under five minutes. But alas, no shortcut has been found. The ventilation system might be worthy of an attempt, but who knows where she would end up the first time. Hopefully not above her fathers room. Only God can tell how many women he had dragged in there.  
  
Disgusted at how her father 'coped', you could say, with losing her mother, she quickly changed the subject in her mind to pop-tarts and how ridiculous it was that so many different kinds existed. Then, she sluggishly climbed down the last flight of stairs before entering the kitchen.  
  
"...raspberry, strawberry, blueberry," Videl counted with her fingers, "chocolate chip, cinnamon, smores: damn I love those smores," she stopped as she hear her father's voice. "Yeah! That's how I did it! Chop! Right there!" The conversation in the kitchen easily reached her ears as Videl opened the pantry door to retrieve a small breakfast (maybe a poptart). "And then I did a kick! HEYA!!" Hercule acted out his little shirade, obviously entertaining another woman. [" Oh I wonder wonder hoob a doo doo doot, how big are her wonder balls? That woman has to be a real ditz to listen to that-that THING all day...," ]Videl closed the pantry door only with a tasty cake in hand and quietly chuckled to herself at the sight in front of her, ["and I thought I looked bad in the morning."] "Oh my, Hercule!! You're so strong," the blond giggled with delight as Hercule continued his story. "And then Cell says, 'You're a puny, weak little Earthling,' then I say , ' OH YEAH!? Well you're weaker!' Then I punch and-"  
  
"God!! Just shut up!! We all know that freaking story already." Videl shouted leaving her father frozen with limbs in every direction.  
  
Videl heard that "How I Beat Cell" story too many times. If it wasn't for that stupid homosexual grasshopper thing with powers coming, her father might have never 'saved the world' and become such a big shot.   
  
"Oh, Hercule! Who's that? Is she your daughter?" the blond questioned tilting her head to the right, her breasts jiggling on command.  
  
Videl rolled her eyes putting her hands on her hips.   
  
"God she's a dunce," Videl inquired from the ditz's comment.  
  
"YE-," Videl started.  
  
" NO!!!!" Hercule shouted, lunging to cover Videl's mouth. ".....uh no....she's a ...uh ...maid! Yeah that's is! Now go along you." Hercule shooed Videl out the atrium door. "Yuppie!! I am as unmarried and childless as they come!! heh heh..." He closed the door and went to continue his 'How I Saved the World From Cell' speech. "At that moment I knew it was all up to me, Baby..."  
  
Videl sighed, "Well, at least I'm a maid ...Last time I was a lap dog." She shuttered at the thought of doing anything near to that 'occupation' while walking down the driveway and through the large, pointy gates to start off on her way to school. ,,   
  
Entering the campus, Videl began to hear the other teens congregating around the school courtyard. "OOH, look, Sharpie! It's Videl!" the giddy girl shouted dragging her boyfriend along to Videl's side.   
  
["Oh great. Another day with dumb and dumber," ]Videl sighed, but deliberated not to ignore them today. After all, they were her only two 'friends'. She ignored the fact that they were blond (meaning liable to having no common sense) and had the intelligence of a pea. They were the only people that, at least half-heartedly, accepted her for who she was and not for the fact that her father was the 'Great Hercule Satan, Savior of the World'.  
  
Videl shook her head and quickly began walking into the school so that, if she's lucky, maybe she could avoid every one of those man whores who would ask her out and bang on her any chance they got. But that's only if she's lucky.   
  
Videl soon discovered that Lady Luck wasn't at her side, and probably won't be for a while. She could just imagine an 'Out to Lunch' sign hanging in her mind.  
  
["That's one god damn long lunch. I wonder how much she freaking eats. Hmph...must be one fat lady." ]


	2. Mother Dearest And A New Car

The fabulous sky is inviting to all on a day like this, where it seems so be an oasis in the everlasting tapestry of life. Today, the vastness of the sky bids any and all man to come and admire it for its captivating beauty. Predator and prey, friend and foe. Anyone would love to take a moment and entwine their fingers in the refreshing pool of azure poetry. The sky was void of all clouds, allowing the sun to slice through the air and penetrate the coldest of hearts. The warmth would engulf you into the flames of life permitting happiness to all and spreading joy to those who welcomed it.   
  
Blue, as far as they eye could see, as far as the mind could contemplate, as far as the senses could tell. The crisp blue that seemed to go on forever caressed the horizon with a gentle touch. The city lay in perfection. It was the perfect day for a new beginning. The wind whirled through his hair cooling him down only slightly. Smells of exhaust and other intoxicating fumes wound their way up his nose making him cringe slightly. It was a warm swell of air, not doing much to relieve him of the invisible fire, because the sun, still evermore persistent, beat down on the residents of the planet Earth with tsunami waves of fire. It was not just any heat, oh ho ho no, but blistering one hundred and ten degree heat that left you begging for mercy.   
  
Another bead of sweat ran down his brow looking for a good place to rest itself. He stood adjacent to a pair of doors on his right, feeling the air conditioning coming from within the one story building he now glared at. A parking lot of BMWs stood behind him in a rainbow of colors from red to purple, orange to hot pink, black to blue, etc etc etc.   
  
Gazing upwards, he wished he could fly into that wonderful sky above him. Just to speed through the warm air would be pure bliss. The gust of wind would be more than enough to cool him down and he always enjoyed the breathtaking view from so high up. He just stood there, though, observing the expansive heavens, wishing he could fly out of here, but no...he would be seen, get caught, what ever you wanted to call it. The outcome of him blasting out of here wouldn't be very smooth. Too many people stood around looking at their hopeful convertible-to-be. Plus, how do you think a city would react to seeing a man flying through the sky without the aid of machinery. They would probably shout 'Look, it's a bird, no it's a plane, no...It's an ALIEN!! We're all gonna die!!'. He wouldn't really mind being called an alien. After all...he really was one. Saiyan to be exact, well half anyway. Plus, it was better than being called some man in blue tights with red underwear and a cape to top it off. The weggie must be horrific. Who needs superpowers when your outfit is enough to scare away the villains. Another warm gust of wind swept through the city ruffling his white button up dress shirt. He reached up and undid the first few buttons revealing a well sculpted chest to the world. Then, neatly rolling up the cuffs to his sleeves, he unveiled scarred forearms and worn tan skin. Though he was well build, he was no body builder, just simply in good shape. Glancing around, Gohan decided to take a stroll over to his new love interest, a brand spanking new convertible. Smiling, he took his hand and slid it gently across the leather head rest. Now grinning like a mad man, he inspected the car, checking out every feature he knew of. Soon, some portly man began to approach the car with a shining pair of keys in hand. Gohan's excitement grew ten-fold.  
  
A quickly brush of icy lips seemed to caress the back of his neck. He looked up as a chilling whisper swept across the valley making him tremble. The cold brushed against his ear making him turn a full circle to inspect the landscape once again. Then, suddenly, out of the cloudless sky came a sudden shadow that swooped across the aqua convertible. The fleeting shade touched his skin taking his breath away with it into the void abyss.  
  
Pitch black.  
  
Soon, in the darkness, the sound of franticly beating wings reached his sensitive ears. Quickly glancing up, he expected to see a bird, possibly a seagull due to the fact they were near the ocean, but not a single bird was in flight.  
  
The shadow chilled him as though a frigid wind came riding along with it, but the air was utterly still. His body wracked with shivers, making him feel like he was convulsing.   
  
He continued to look around, trying to find the flapping wings that were causing this noise, trying to discover what object could cause such a shadow, but the search was fruitless. Turning once more, a tingle engrossed his fingers. He held out his right hand as the tingle became a sudden pang of ice cold essence sweeping across his palm. Surprised by the painful sensation, he deftly jerked his hand back, but soon and image appeared. Something shiny, sparkling, metallic. Realizing that the ice was merely the keys to his new car, he watched them jingle, not falling, but levitating there, still moving, glistening, but with no source of light.  
  
His eyes widened at the sight. Keys don't float...they just can't.   
  
He reached out his hand towards the flying object, going slowly as if expecting the keys to bite like they were a deadly snake. Inspecting the commodity, his hand inched closer.   
  
They fell. Falling, falling into nothing.   
  
Glass shattering. The sound echoed throughout the darkness at the keys hit something. Hit what? Gohan slowly bent over to retrieve the fallen wonder of physics. "No, no. Don't worry. I'll get 'em," Jim Shine, the rather obese car salesman, said with an annoyingly fake smile on his face for what just happened.   
  
"Wai-what...huh?" Gohan stood up straight and looked around. Where did Jim come from? Perplexed and frowning, Gohan looked up at the sky again. Unblemished blue with not a cloud in sight. "Must be exciting," Jim said winking. His chubby face scrunched up making him look like a pudgy choir boy. "Huh?" Gohan was still a little disoriented from the now disappeared shadow.   
  
"I must be imagining things," Gohan thought shaking his head looking at the ground. His body was still chilled to the bone. The perspiration on his face seemed to turn cold. It wasn't so hot out anymore. "Getting your first BMW is like getting your first piece of ass," Shine states winking again. Gohan extended his hand snatching the keys. Even though Gohan was no prude, he was mildly offended when Jim compared the amazing feeling of owning your first REAL car to sex. For the moment, at least, the convertible beat out any mattress dancing routines or bedroom games. The sound of the engine, the way it hugged the turns, and the raw speed, it fascinated Gohan. It was the closest thing he new of to flying. Reaching out a shaky hand, he opened the driver's side door to the car hoping that no more freaky shadows were coming his way again any time soon, and slid in accepting the warm touch of the leather on his grateful skin. Jim Shine grabbed the door and softly shut it as Gohan put the keys into the ignition. Gohan dreamed of this moment for a long time. It was almost every boy's fantasy...wasn't it? To get your first gorgeous car and drive it out of the dealership feeling immortal. Like a god. Turning the keys, the engine purred. Perfection to his ears. It hummed smoothly soothing him. He put it into gear and shook Jim's hand. It was wet. A little sticky due to perspiration. Gohan all but forgot about the heat. It felt like a brisk fall day in Pennsylvania at the moment. He wanted to wrap a jacket, blanket, ANYTHING around his shoulders to ease the soul shattering chill. Quickly studying the dashboard he has seen in too many magazines to count, Gohan hastily cranked up the heat.   
  
Giving Gohan a queer look, Jim shine slammed his hand on the door twice and said, "Have fun." Smiling like a choir boy, Jim slowly walked away. Back into the depths of the dealership he went, dreaming of the nice paycheck to come. Eventually, he slowly yet surely made his way out of the parking lot and decided to drive along the Los Angeles coast, not wanting to go home just yet. As he sped through the tight curves along the Cliffside, he discovered his presumption was correct. You did feel like a god if you owned one of these babies. "This HAS to be better than sex," Gohan thought as his Saiyan side chuckled. To a Saiyan nothing and I mean NOTHING was better than sex, but then again you never know with a half breed. The sun began to slowly set behind the vast expanse of the ocean, looking as though it was taking a leisurely plunge into the sea. The sky slowly began to change to a wonderful purple, with a ring of orange and red surrounding the bathing ball of fire. It was pure splendor. Staring at the awe-inspiring scene in front of him, Gohan felt another chill run through his body. He shivered. He reached out his hand to turn up the heater and was discouraged to see it was already at full power and he probably was unconsciously raising it throughout the ride. He shook. "Damn it's cold," Gohan groaned while reluctantly pressing the little black knob so the roof would rise into place blocking out all wind and lifeless air.  
  
After hearing the click Gohan turned on the radio to some unknown oldies station and began to sing along with the Beatles, Beachboys, and Chuck Berry. At that moment, the swooping shadow and inexplicable chill were all but forgotten.  
  
He continued cruising aimlessly around the see shore. The lapping waves seemed hypnotic. The sound of the waves, listening to some good music- not that crap where it sounds like the poor singers are having a seizure- and getting used to his dream car was the most relaxing moment he has had in a long while.  
  
Reaching down into his jean pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and decided to call his mother back home in the mountains and spread the good news. She answered on the second ring, her voice strong and clear. "Hey, Mom."  
  
"Kanahan?" she said. "Gohan," he reminded her. He loved his mother to death, but she drove him crazy. She refused to give up on using his Saiyan name. After his father died she kept on insisting that they use it as his 'regular' name. But he refused. The death of Dad was his fault and he didn't want to be reminded of it every time someone addressed him. His mother, Chi Chi, let out a long-suffering sigh, "You sound funny." "It's a cellular phone, mother." "Whose phone?"  
  
"The car phone."  
  
"Why do you need a car phone, Kanahan?"  
  
"Gohan. They're really handy. I'm not sure if I could get along without one. Ya know, with work an' all. Listen mum, guess what-"  
  
"Car phones are for big shots." "Not anymore mom. Pretty much everyone's got 'em." "I don't. Plus, phones and driving put together are dangerous." Gohan sighed. He soon realized and was quite disturbed at the fact that his sigh sounded just like -cringe- his mother's. "I've never had an accident before, mom." "You will. Just see. I don't care how good a driver you are. A mother's intuition is always right," she stated firmly.  
  
This is what bugged Gohan. He was strong, stronger than any ordinary man, because well, he wasn't really ordinary. He could dodge bullets, survive explosions, and easily pick up a cruise ship with one hand. Hell, he almost blew up the world in his sleep one time, so he could defiantly survive a car accident and, all thanks to dear old dad, his mother should be more worried about the other driver in the crash. Eh hem...that is, though, if he ever did get in one. And now, even though he only had the use of one hand at the moment, driving the car was a sinch. It was amazing. He was practically gliding. Chi Chi changed the subject, "Kanahan, I haven't seen you for weeks!"  
  
"Gohan! We spent all of Sunday together, mother. This is only Thursday in case you haven't noticed." "Will you come to dinner? Goten misses you terribly." "There she goes again, using Goten as a guilt trip ," He rolled his eyes -another trait obtained from his mother.Gohan loved his little brother terribly. Goten was just about twelve years younger than Gohan, making him nine, but the most adorable part of Goten was that he was like his father's mini-me. It was amazing. "Tonight? Gee, mum. See, I can't. I just-" "We have chicken stir-fry." "-just bought-" "You remember my chicken stir-fry? Or maybe you forgot all about you mother's cooking?" "Of course I haven't forgot, mum. It's delicious." "We're also having shrimp and watercress soup. You remember shrimp and watercress soup?"  
  
"Yes, I remember, mum." Night was creeping over the coast. Above the land to the east, the heavens were black and speckled with tiny stars. To the west, the ocean seemed sable, almost like ink. It appeared to be striped with a silvery foam of oncoming breakers. Toward the horizon, the sun looked like it had finally drown in the ocean, leaving behind a small strip of indigo.   
  
Even though the promise of feeling like a god, and the beautiful stars eased his mind, Gohan couldn't help but feel like an ungrateful son. Chi Chi said, "We are also having some stir-fried celery, carrots, cabbage, some peanuts - very good. Oh, and my special sauce."  
  
"You make the best stir-fry in the world, mom, and the best soup, but I -"  
  
"Hmmm...can you cook and drive at the same time?" In anger and desperation, Gohan blurted, "Mom, I bought a new convertible!" "You bought a phone and a convertible?"  
  
"No, no. I've had the phone for quite a while. The-" "What is this...convertible?" "You know, mom. A car. A sports car. A very nice sports car." "You bought a sports car?"  
  
"Remember. I always said if I raised enough money after taking care of you and Goten I would-"  
  
"What sport?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Football?" His mother was stubborn, and that was putting it lightly. She was a bit of a traditionalist. Not as much as the Queen of England, but pretty close. Even though she had her ways, Gohan knew perfectly well that his mother knew exactly what a sports car was. He was pretty sure she wasn't that thick-headed. She also knew what the convertible symbolized to Gohan: a chance to be normal, an forget about the past. But the past is what his mother hung on to. She wanted to remember the good old days when her boy was at home working on his studies and her husband was still alive. Other than Goten, the past was all she had left. She would not accept the fact that her little boy wanted to throw away the last true possession of happiness she had.  
  
"Baseball?" she asked again. "They call the color 'bright aqua metallic.' It's beautiful, mom, a lot like the color of the vase in your bedroom. It's got-"  
  
"Was it expensive?"  
  
"Huh? Well, yeah, it's a really nice car, mother. I mean it doesn't cost as much as a Mercedes, but-"  
  
"Reporters and liberals all drive convertibles you know." His mother had a bad thing with reporters and simply cursed all liberals. 'This country was screwed up enough without them,' may end up being written on her tombstone. "Reporters? No I've-"  
  
"You spent everything on that car. Didn't you. You'll go broke, and then you won't have enough money to help provide for me and Goten."  
  
"No, no. I'd never-"  
  
"If you go broke, then don't take welfare."  
  
"I'm not broke, mother."  
  
"If you go broke then you must come back home and live me and Goten."  
  
"That won't be necessary, mother."  
  
"The 'family' is always here."  
  
Gohan felt like dirt, no, lower than dirt. He felt like dirt that's been processed through a worms digestive system and pooped up again. He did nothing wrong. Did he?   
  
At that moment, he felt uncomfortable being revealed in the headlights of oncoming cars, as if they were those interrogation lamps the police use on TV. He thought someone would suddenly ask 'Where were you on the day of July 7?' She questioned, "Where is your Toyota? And what about flying? You always seemed happy doing that."  
  
"I traded the Toyota in and flying isn't the most normal thing on earth in case you haven't noticed." "Your friends all drive Toyota. Ford. Dodge. Never convertibles."  
  
"I thought you didn't know what a convertible was, mother."  
  
"I know," she said, " oh yes I know," suddenly making one of those hundred eighty degree turns that only a mother has the talent of making, Chi Chi said , "Doctors drive convertibles. You were always a brilliant child, Kanahan, you could have been a doctor."  
  
Sometimes it seemed that even though with the paycheck he was making at the age of twenty-one as an engineer, he would never be able to satisfy his mother. Most parents would be happy if their kid found a job at McDonalds, but not his. Either follow the family, or be ruthlessly shunned by all. Sigh, life is tough. "Anyway, Mom. I am not just an engineer anymore. As of tomorrow I am writing novels to get some extra cash for you and Goten. You know how I always wrote in my spare time."  
  
"No job."  
  
"No...just partially self-employed...that's all."  
  
"That is just a fancy way of saying no job," she insisted. The thought that her husband never even had a job illuded her totally. "I'm still an engineer, mum. Plus, the contract I signed-"  
  
"You know, people read newspapers. Who reads books these days?"  
  
"You read books, mother."  
  
"Not those silly books about private detectives with guns in every pocket and policemen who chase gangsters with jeans that could fit a sumo reseller and thugs who drive cars like they're on drugs and get in bad fights. Not to mention the fact they always happen to get drunk on whisky just to get laid by some city girl," his mother pouted.  
  
"My detective doesn't drink whisky-"  
  
"He should settle down and marry some nice smart country girl...with morals, and have babies. Then he should get a real job and support his family."  
  
"Boring, mother. No one would ever want to read about a detective like that."  
  
"This so-called detective in your 'novels', is he going to marry a prostitute or some slutty city girl and break his mother's heart?"  
  
"He's a lone wolf character, mom. He'll never marry."  
  
"That will break his mother's heart too!! Who wants to read a book about a mother with a broken heart? It's just too sad."  
  
Exasperated, Gohan said, "Mom, I just called to spread the good news about the convertible and-"  
  
"Please come to dinner. I made chicken stir-fry and rice that is so much better than those fatty cheeseburgers."  
  
"I can't come tonight. Maybe tomorrow, mom."  
  
"You know, if you eat too many cheeseburgers and fries, then soon you'll look like a big cheeseburger." "Mom. I-"  
  
"Mother's intuition, sweetie."  
  
"I hardly ever eat burgers, mom. I watch what I eat."  
  
"Oh, so now you watch your cheeseburgers. That's brilliant. What do you do, scare the calories away by staring them to death?"  
  
"Mom!"  
  
Chi Chi sighed,"...Tomorrow night we're having shrimp roast , pot roasted rice, and some fish Goten caught out by the lake."  
  
Gohan's mouth was watering, but he would not give in. Not even if little gnomes were threatening to probe his body with little freaky gnome torture devices and do little gnome experiments on him. He could not give in. He could not let his mother win! Well, not yet. "Okay, I'll be there tomorrow night," he gave up all too soon, and while mentally slapping himself he said, "And after dinner I'll take you and Goten for a spin the convertible."  
  
"Why don't you just fly here."  
  
"Convertible, mother."  
  
"You know what, take Goten in the fancy sports car. He likes shiny, flashy things. They seem to amuse him. But not me. I am a simple person."  
  
"I'll do my best not to corrupt him any more than he already is, mum."  
  
"Fine. Tomorrow then. Good-bye, Kanahan."  
  
"Gohan," he corrected, but she had already hung up. God how he loved his mother, but sometimes she drove him to the brink of insanity!!  
  
Driving along the road, Gohan threw his cell phone on the passenger seat. All natural light had disappeared from the sky. It seemed that a blanket of clouds had come to cover the earth for a while. The only light seen was that of a few houses speckled over the coastal mountain side and, every now and then, a passing car. 


	3. It Begins

A new chill passed throughout his body. This one making him shiver. His teeth soon began to chatter uncontrollably. The unearthly cold front wreaked his entire body. This one worse than before. He put his hands, one at a time, up the car heaters to warm up, but they did no justice. He tried raising his ki around his body to possibly thaw himself out. It did nothing. His jaw throbbed. Through his entire life, Gohan has never experienced teeth chattering cold. Yes, he wrote about it in his novels for effect, but he believed it was just something said to create the effect, the mood. Plus, he also always knew how to use ki to warm him up a bit. His father taught him that. Another chill swept across his shoulder blades. Gohan remembered the peculiar moment earlier at the car dealership: the fleeting shadow with no cloud or bird could have cast it, the deep coldness like a wind that stirred nothing else but him.   
  
He glanced away from the road ahead of him, up at the deep sky, as if he might glimpse some pale shape passing through the darkness above.

["What pale shape, for God's sake?"]

"Cool it ,Gohan. Your scaring yourself...and now your talking to yourself too. Gosh, I'm losing it," Gohan said. He still looked up ahead into the night sky, still thinking that he might see something, something he couldn't explain, but... a pale figure of all things.  
  
Suddenly realizing the sheer silence, Gohan reached his hand down to turn up the radio so he could listen to some vintage oldies. Still, he felt uneasy, and was nevertheless chilled in spite of the flood of warm air cascading from the car heater.  
  
Odd. Noticing that nothing but static came from the radio, he thought he must have nudged the selector of the station. It was strange. Not the ordinary static, but like distant water tumbling over rocks and smashing into other intruding matter.  
  
Briefly taking his gaze off the road, Gohan pressed the selector button again. Immediately the numbers changed, but the sound stayed true. It was the same far away water clashing. Strange. Again, he pressed the button to another station. The numbers changed, but, again, the sound did not. "Oh, wonderful. Terrific. Only a few hours and the radio's already broken. Jeez."  
  
Once again glancing away from the road, Gohan started pressing all the controls hoping to find anything. He was desperate. The sound of the water was driving him mad. He would settle for polka! He switched from FM to AM, but still no change. The static stayed victorious. Eventually, he gave up. Cursing under his breath he pressed the button to turn it off. The static remained undiminished. Again he pushed the same button to no avail.  
  
Gradually, the character of the sound had changed from the gurgle of falling water to a sound that resembled that of a crowd, like voices of a multitude all raising their voices in cheers or chants; or perhaps it was the far away babble of an angry mob or protest group. Disturbed by the sound greatly, Gohan continued to jab any and all buttons in his sight with hope of relief.  
  
Voices. Defiantly voices. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Men, women, and the fragile voices of children. Through the shouts he could here screaming. Pleas for help, moaning, people in anguish. It filled the car. There was no escaping the sound.  
  
The voices were creepy, mesmerizing. He found himself staring at the radio for too long and diverted his attention back to the highway he was currently traveling, but he was only able to focus for a few seconds as his gaze unintentionally crept back down to watch the radio.  
  
Now behind all of the voices, Gohan was able to depict one rising above all others. It was low. The voice did not seem human. But what else could it be. The voice cracked as it gradually rose above all the others. Phlegm rocked in the lungs of...whatever it was. The voice was wet, slimy, disgusting. The repulsive thing rang over the 'crowd', but its words were undecipherable.   
  
No. Good God. What was coming from those speakers was static, white noise, electronic slush. Gohan didn't trust his overactive imagination at the moment. Not at all.  
  
In spite of the chill that still infested his body, Gohan felt perspiration slide down his forehead. His palms were sweaty too.  
  
Surely, he had pressed every button in the car at least three times, but the ghostly chorus droned on. "Damn." He scrunched up his hand to make a fist. He smashed the fist against the control panel, not hard enough to break it, but so he pressed three or four buttons simotaniously.  
  
Minute by minute, second by second, the on going voice of phlegm echoed through the car. Gohan believed it was getting clearer. But why. Once again, Gohan threw his fist against the panel, accept this time, a stifled cry left his mouth. He wanted to end the drone. Even though it couldn't possibly cause any harm to him... Could it?  
  
As he questioned himself, he realized he had to block out the sound. Do what ever it takes. He clamped his hands to the steering wheel, trying as hard as he could to ignore the pain filled moans coming from the stereo speakers. ". . .Kanahan. . ."  
  
That one word. Clear as daylight. ". . .Son Kanahan. . ."  
  
The repulsive, mucus-clotted voice rang over the speakers. Gohan's name . His Saiyan name. ". . .Son Kanahan. . ."  
  
Someone was calling him. Seeking contact. Coming closer. Ever so near now. The voice... it called to him and it seemed...hungry.  
  
The chill, unbearable. Like little scurrying spiders infected his body. A third time, he shot his fist at the panel. He screamed. Abruptly, everything when dead. The only sound was that of the purring engine Gohan loved so much, the tires running on the road, and his ragged breathing.   
  
Gohan gaped at the radio.  
  
"Tha...That didn't just happen."


	4. Cheeseburgers Do Crazy Things To A Man

YEEYEEYEEE(vwoosh, area change)   
  
Mmm. Cheeseburgers.   
  
The beefy patties simmered on the burning stove. Greasy perfection, one might say. Or cardiovascular arrest, another might infer. But what ever you thought, in the end, it just tasted damn good. Videl stood there...waiting...waiting...and waiting some more.  
  
"Order up!" the chef yelled dinging the sparkly little order bell.  
  
Videl walked over to the window, grabbed the hotdog-fry combo to add to the already huge pile of orders she had taken, and journeyed over to table number twenty-two. Gracefully balancing drinks and dinners of all cholesterol levels, she made her way over to the party of fifteen.  
  
"Here we go," she said easing the plates onto the table and distributing the many large soft-drinks. "Now, enjoy yourselves." She forced what she thought to be a cheerful smile, turned on her heal, and walked toward another table to prepare to take orders.  
  
Being a waitress wasn't the most entertaining or glamorous job in the world, but it put desperately needed cash into her wallet, and saying she needed money was an understatement. Working for the police during the day and waitressing in the evening wore her out, but she refused to ever give up. Videl Satan was not a quitter.   
  
Her father was eventually going to pay for an apartment or something just get the media going on about what a 'nice father' he was and- Videl thought this to be the main reason- to get her out of the house. It was inevitable, once she left, either by will or by force, she was on her own.  
  
At the moment, Videl was working at some diner near the highway. She dispised the uniform saying that someday, when she quit this job, she would burn it to ashes....and then some. What satisfaction it should bring. Why will it bring such pleasure you may ask? Well there is one reason and one reason only....it was pink. NOT ONLY PINK, but Pepto-Bismol pink.   
  
The skirt raised above her knees to about mid thigh -shudder-, it hugged her thighs and butt -gag-, and the top only had enough buttons to go up to her chest revealing her overly squished breasts -spew-. Not only did it restrict her breathing, oh ho ho no. She had to learn to sit down all over again afraid that some horrid day she might just 'fall out' of the slutty nurse-like uniform. "Family diner my butt. This is just like a freaking fifties version of Hooters."  
  
Giving an evil grin at the thought, she walked away from the happy family, orders in hand, and prepared to let the chef do the rest so she could take a break. "Hey, Videl, could you get table twelve for me, please! My hands are full!!" a fellow worker bagged while being trampled by little children. Videl sighed. She wanted a break! She looked over at her co-worker and suddenly, Videl's face paled. It was the horror of all horrors, the sum of all fears, the end of all human existence, the whole reason why there is the saying 'there is nothing to fear but fear itself ,' because this is the TRUE meaning of fear, it was a...a...a kiddy birthday party...NO! AND ON A THURSDAY NIGHT OF ALL THINGS!! "Uh...ugh....sure thing," Videl said believing she just signed her death warrant. "This is WHY I don't work WEEKENDS!!"   
  
JELLY BEAN!  
  
Hunger, cold, hunger, sweat, hunger, voices, hunger, marshmallows, hunger, cheese.   
  
Food. Such a wonderful thing. Its sole purpose in the world was to nourish, to fill, to create happiness and fat people. That is what food it about until you need it. Not just need it, but when your stomach becomes the brain, when all you see seems edible, even car leather. Oh yes, leather, cows, meat, burgers...WITH CHEESE! His stomach growled, teeth chattered, body shook, vision blurred, his whole body was screaming 'Feed me! Feeed me!'.....or maybe that was just his imagination, but still, if stomachs could talk -which would be too freaky for comfort- his would be shouting obscenities.  
  
Gohan was now cruising down I-90....or at least he was pretty sure he was. Gohan wasn't directionally inclined, so he really couldn't tell. Glancing left and right, Gohan was prepared to cut-off any driver to get to precious food. Suddenly, what seemed to be a gift from god -he hasn't had a lot of those lately- a 1950's styled diner appeared to his right. Impulsively, Gohan sped into the parking lot, drooling at the oncoming promise of food. Stepping out of the car and slamming the door, Gohan was overwhelmed by the glowing red neon light that radiated from the building. He could already smell the fraguent burgers and French fries. Making his way to the door Gohan heard something....something suspicious, scary. It was squealing...and coming closer. "GAH!!" Gohan screamed diving out of the way of the stampeding children. "I CALL SHOTGUN!!" one boy shouted after trampling over Gohan's back. "NOW WAY!! ITS MY PARTY!" another boy, smaller, screamed stepping on Gohan's head. Laying there on the dirty pavement, white shirt not-so-white anymore, head throbbing, back imbedded with footprints from the many children -which he counted to be around seventeen followed by a tiny rodent- Gohan slowly made his way to his feet.   
  
Grumbling and limping into the diner, he seated himself. Enclosed in a tufted red-vinyl booth, Gohan ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a triple-thick chocolate milk shake to ease his sorrows.  
  
In his minds ear, his mothers voice replayed itself: My chicken stir-fry and soup is better than any lousy cheeseburger.  
  
"Make that two cheeseburgers," Gohan amended as the waitress finished taking his order and started to turn away from the booth. "Skipped lunch, huh?" she asked.  
  
If you eat too many cheeseburgers, then soon you'll look like a cheeseburger.  
  
"And an order of onion rings," Gohan said defiantly, certain that farther north in the mountains his mother had just flinched at the psychic awareness of his betrayal. Mothers have those sixth senses that men will never be able to explain. "Hmm. Big appetite. Same here," the waitress said.   
  
She was a slender blue-eyed black haired girl with a rosy complexion. Or maybe it was the red neon lights that gave her the color of that flower, but what he did know was that, even though she probably not a reporter, and most likely not a liberal, she was exactly the kind of woman that haunted his mother's dreams.  
  
Gohan wondered if she was possibly flirting. She wasn't smiling, and though her eyes were inviting, the comment about his appetite might have only been small talk. He wasn't nearly as smooth with the ladies as he would have liked to have been. If she had given him an opening, he was incapable of taking it. One rebellion a night was enough. Cheeseburgers, yes, but not both cheeseburgers and a city girl. He wasn't sure if his mother's heart- and psychic awareness- could take it.  
  
He could only say, "Give me extra cheddar, please, a-and lots of onions."  
  
After slathering enough ketchup to kill a donkey on his burgers, he ate every bite of what he ordered. He drained the milk shake so completely that the sucking noises of the empty glass caused nearby adult diners to glare at him because of the bad example he was setting for their children, but in his mind, the children were already corrupt, so he really didn't mind the multitude of evil-eye glares being set upon him.  
  
Finishing, Gohan left a generous tip for the beautiful girl. As he was heading for the door the waitress said, "You look a lot happier going out than you did coming in." "I was trampled by children," Gohan mumbled. "Oh yes. The birthday party. That was hell." The waitress shook her head. "Seventeen oh them?"  
  
"Nineteen...not including the gerbil."  
  
After standing there a few moments, Gohan's brain raced, searching for something to say. "I..uh...bought a convertible today," he said insanely.  
  
"Cool," she said. "Been my dream since a was a little kid."  
  
"What color is it?"  
  
"Bright aqua metallic." "Sounds pretty."  
  
"It flies."  
  
"I'll bet."  
  
"Like a rocket," he said as he realized he was lost in oceanic depths of her blue eyes.  
  
"Well uh ," he said nervously, "t-take care."  
  
"You too," said the waitress.  
  
He went to the entrance. On the threshold, holding the door open, Gohan looked back, hoping that the would be staring after him. She had turned away, however, and was walking to the booth he had recently vacated. Her slender ankles and shapely legs were lovely, but one thing tugged in the back of his mind.   
  
She never smiled.  
  
The plot thickens::in background:: WHAT PLOT?! 


	5. Cartoons And Carrots

A slight breeze had sprung up, but the night was still balmy for November. On the far side of the Pacific Coast Highway, at the entrance to Fashion Island Mall, stately ranks of enormous phoenix palms were illuminated by floodlights fixed to their boles. Long green fronds swayed like hula skirts. The breeze was lightly scented with the fecund smell of the nearby ocean; it didn't chill him but, in fact, pleasantly caressed the back of his neck and playfully ruffled his thick, black, gravity-defying hair. In the wake of his spontaneous rebellion against his mother, the world seemed to have grown delightfully more sensuous. In the car, he switched on the radio. It was functioning perfectly again. Roy Orbison was rocking out "Pretty Woman."  
  
Gohan sang along. Lustily. (teehee) He remembered the ominous roar of static and the strange phlegm voice that seemed to be calling his name from the radio, but now he found it difficult to believe that the peculiar incident had been as uncanny as it had seemed at the time. He had been upset by his conversation with his mother, feeling simultaneously put-upon and guilty, angry with her but also with himself, and his perception hadn't been entirely trustworthy. Plus, a hungry Saiyan's senses can never be trusted. The waterfall-roar of static had been real enough, but in his pall of guilt, he had no doubt imagined hearing his name in a meaningless gurgle and squeal of electronic garbage.  
  
All the way home, he listened to old-time rock-'n'-roll, and he knew the words to every song. This was good.  
  
Life sucks like a lolypop   
  
Pulling into his driveway, his headlights shined brightly on the opening garage door that soon revealed a well kept garage with neat shelves and cupboards organized with tools, lawn equipment, and freaky house warming gifts his mother had given him a while back. His home was modest. It was two stories without a basement. He couldn't go all out because his family came first when it came to finances.  
  
Closing the garage door, he walked inside and set his keys on the designated hook. Then he sluggishly dragged himself into the kitchen to grab a refreshing glass of water before heading upstairs to get to work. Sipping on his icy water he concluded that he would rather walk into the living room and relax for a moment first. It was a weird day, he deserved a break.  
  
The carpet was a nice creamy white, the cushy and soft kind that you could squish between your toes. The couch was new and had yet to be worn in, but it was a good couch none the less. It had promise. The downstairs looked like your typical house with kitchen, bathroom, living and dining rooms. For his salary, it was a great home. Warm and cozy with a Kenmore heating and air-conditioning system...guarenteed to last for a life time.  
  
Gohan set the half-empty glass on the wooden coffee table in front of him, thinking about turning on the television for a few moments to get his mind off of previous events.  
  
He picked up the remote-control, switched on the TV, and decided on watching something comical. Flipping to cartoon network, he felt lucky to find a rather interesting cartoon on the three little bears...only the bears were seemingly high -on God knows what- and goldy locks was a prostitute in a red mini-skirt -who knows where she got that idea from... I hope not the granny-, but beside those 'minor' points, the show was able to squeeze a few chuckles out of the prude-ish Saiyan.  
  
After about a half an hour, Gohan finally realized why little children would willingly get up a 4:30 am to watch such weird animation. It was absolutely fascinating. He must try it some time. Hell, he may as well go all the way and add the sugar coated cereal.  
  
Gohan sat there enjoying himself, feeling that maybe today was just one of those fluke Friday the 13ths that got their days of the week messed up. In his mind, that made more sense than not, which was a good thing considering the many other ways he, or anyone else matter of factly, would have taken it. Especially his mother. By God. She probably would have called an exorcist or something and make him run around naked with mashed potatoes in his shoes, or whatever that ritual was. She would make him do it for sure -using her 'quiet before the storm' technique- and he could bet anything she would video-tape it. The special broadcast would most likely be held at Christmas. Dooms day...well unless the exorcist was unsuccessful, but that's a totally different horror story of its own, including garlic necklaces, countless horse shoes, and daily clover hunting trips.  
  
He shrugged. Oh well. He just won't mention it tomorrow at dinner. Problem solved. Okay, so it really wasn't a problem so to say, but you never know, his mother might look at him and be able to recite everything he's done over the past week, which wouldn't be that interesting considering he never did anything  
  
At the moment, Daffy duck was being chased by Elmer Fudd. A classic. Daffy runs and hides, but Fudd is always there somehow, rifle ready. Daffy gets his head blown off in a comical fashion, but due to his immortality, he survives for another beating. So simple, yet entertaining.   
  
Every once in a while the infamous saying 'What's up Dock' rang from the set earning Gohan only the lone feeling of wanting a carrot to nibble on, but having to stand up to get one? He just wasn't in the mood to have to stand up and walk all the way over to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, tear a plastic bag containing the little orange things, wash it off, and walk all the way back here. It would be too hard, too much, but it if was chocolate...now that would be a different story. Instead, he picked up his sugarless glass of water and took another refreshing sip. Looking down at the table, he noticed a ring of condensation that had fallen from the beverage and was now residing on the table. Being the neat freak that his mother had taught him the be, Gohan set down the glass and wiped it off with his sleeve. It was just water. No harm done.  
  
Leaning back into the couch, he noticed a good sized butt print was appearing on the cushion beneath. He quickly scooted over to the other side without standing up. A task only learned with experience.   
  
If there was one thing that bugged him, it was a misused armchair. You must wear in the cushions evenly for maximum comfort. A lop-sided couch cushion... it's just not right.  
  
Gohan inspected the mini crater in his sofa. Maybe his mother was right. He was eating too many cheeseburgers.  
  
In the midst of deciding on weather or not to go on a diet, the doorbell rang.  
  
The sound waves reverberated throughout the house creating an eerie silence once they were content with running around every room.   
  
Perking his ears, he looked around and smoothed out the butt-print.  
  
Reluctantly standing up, so not to be rude, but to possibly get the point across that he didn't want whoever was outside to be here, he slowly made his way to the entranceway, edgy but curious as to whom it could be. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was -he checked his watch- dinner time. He wouldn't miss dinner time for the world and thought anyone that did was crazy. Then again, maybe a crazy person with an ax was standing on the other side of his door waiting to hack his head off. You never do know these days. Especially in Los Angeles.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
With the door in his sight, he doesn't make any effort to get there any sooner than he had to. The person would just have to be patient.  
  
Reaching the front double doors, Gohan extended his hand and clasped the door knob.   
  
Cold.  
  
A chill was sent down his spine resonating throughout his entire body. The door knob was frozen, but the coolness wasn't your average chill. It seemed different in a purely ' what are you thinking; after today? Hmph... average chill my butt' sense. From the experiences of earlier, Gohan became worried. These things shouldn't all be happening, at least not in the same 24 hour time-slot. Quickly he released the door knob expecting to see frost or a small amount of consolidation to appear on the devise due to its freakishly low temperature, but none was found. He stood there glaring at it, eyes wide. It still shone with the same shiny appearance of all door knobs, but it did seem a little too shiny. Hmm...maybe he shouldn't have used Windex.  
  
Again, he reached out to open the oak door. Hand shaking, he once more attempted to open the entrance without receiving frost bite. Maybe he was the one who had his days of the week messed up. Maybe time was smarter than all of us, and the pattern for unlucky events strung throughout the cloth of time was much more complex than any woven fabric on this earth...tsht..yeah..right. Today was just a bad day. But bad days usually consist of getting in a car crash, getting dumped, getting beaten up, getting sick, getting fired, getting rejected, getting teased and humiliated, but not freakish chills that leave you frozen to the ground befuddled beyond comprehension.   
  
Rapidly, he twisted the knob and flung the door open almost sending it off its hinges. He stared out onto the porch.  
  
Nothing.  
  
He looked down to make sure he's not being rude to a short person. He saw no midget circus clown and shrugged. Darn.  
  
Cautiously, he took a few steps out into the night. He looked up, this time just to observe he night sky.   
  
Black. Not a star shone in the sky due to the pending storm the Whether Channel had predicted. Heh, maybe they could get it right every now and then.  
  
The smell in the air was flat. Not the usual fall scent of the salty ocean and decaying leaves, but the heavy smell of electrical charge brought on by the oncoming threat of a tempest. Anticipation.  
  
The thickness of the air made him nauseous. Not even the slightest wind was brewing. Everything was still, stale.   
  
He walked down the steps and inspected the nearby foliage to see if anyone was hiding or to expose a juvenile prankster. Rustling the bushes shadows inveloped his vision. Even if he wanted to find someone, something, he wouldn't have been able to. Shadows overtook all light coming from within his home. Darkness that only appears in nightmares.  
  
Making his way back to the door, Gohan took a moment to scan the area. He stood in the middle of his yard, stone still. Eyes glancing back and forth from tree to tree, branch to branch, curb to curb. His hands curled up into fists. Something wasn't right. Yes, it could have been a prank, but no. No.  
  
Giving up the stationary search, Gohan decided to do something his mother taught him when he was young. Find logic in any situation. Think it out. That is why he is even alive now. When he and his father were in danger, he would think it out logically and save their lives. With the adventurous lives they lived together, quick problem solving was always a major necessity. He hasn't been thinking. That must be part of the problem.  
  
He determined that not only this situation, but the other occurrences of today, needed a good chunk of time to sort out. The single phantom door-bell ringer wouldn't have spooked him on an ordinary day, but this was no ordinary day.   
  
Taking one last glance around the yard, Gohan turned around and began to walk up the stairs into his warm, cozy home.  
  
The door was closed. Weird. He didn't remember closing it. No wind stirred, no man or animal could have done it....from the outside. Gohan looked around his shoulders, doing a full 360 spin on the steps. His bare feet were numb and his hands were shaking.  
  
Soft. Something soft where soft should not be. Beneath his right foot lay something squishy, not necessarily soft anymore now that he thought about it. He looked down. Unable to see what it is due to the shadows, the wretched blackness. He bent down and placed his foot onto the concrete surface of his porch.  
  
["How did this get here?" ]  
  
oooooooh scawy beawr 


	6. Little Doll From Hell

No....not now...please...no. Trees. So many of them. Everywhere. Nowhere to go. Closer. She could feel It's presence behind her. No. Run. Faster. Faster. Must go faster. Not now. No. She sprinted between trees, over fallen branches, under protruding brush. Pitpatpitpat. Closer. No. Speeding fast, she could hear It. Crunch crunch. The crumbling leaves beneath her feet, a dead give-away. Must go faster. FASTER!  
  
It was right behind her. That monster. She couldn't look back. No. Not now, not yet. Darkness.   
  
No moon filtered light shimmered between clearings. It abandoned her, left her to die. Hid behind the clouds so it wouldn't have to watch her death.  
  
Silence.  
  
They knew. They knew It was coming. They all hid, not wanting to be Its next prey. It was breathing down her neck. Smelling her.  
  
How. No. Faster. Closer.  
  
Crunch snap. Dead leaves, dead twigs. It was autumn. Time of death. Time of her death. Must go faster. Not yet. No. The darkness was overwhelming. It lived in this darkness, breathed it, cherished it, loved it. How.  
  
Where did It come from? Why was It here? Why would God make such a thing capable of...this? She felt It. So close now. She could feel Its thoughts, Its intentions. Die. Must die.  
  
Green eyes.  
  
Those green eyes that penetrated her soul.  
  
Those green floating orbs.  
  
So deadly.  
  
So sinister.  
  
Green death. No.  
  
Live, please. Closer. Faster. So close, too close. Faster damnit FASTER!  
  
She fell. No. It's here.  
  
No. Autumn. Time of death, my death. My death. November. Fall. Time of my fall. Where is he. Wait. Who? It?  
  
No, not It. He. Him. Where. Save me. Now. Yes. Save me from this monster. My monster. My nightmare. My everything. ["Where was It? It should have ripped me limb from limb and piece by piece consumed me alive. Why not?"] Him. He came. She sat up, looked around. There. There he was, standing there, smiling. Him. Face shadowed, body scraped, he came closer. He held out his hand and chuckled.  
  
Beautiful smile, beautiful body, he helped me. He always will.  
  
He stopped. His smile faded.  
  
No. Not now. Blood. No.  
  
Everywhere. The monster.  
  
His body, bone, blood, eaten by this this thing. No. Not him. Not my refuge. The monster got him. Why him. No. No. NO! His upper body. Not there. Blood. On trees, leaves, the monster. It was satisfied enough for now. It left, leaving him there, her there. His body in two. Nowhere. Trees, leaves. Crunch crunch. Farther. Gone.  
  
Everything. All gone. Not him.  
  
He will be back. He always is. He has to be.  
  
No. He's gone.  
  
Forever. No. No. Not him. NO! "NO!," Videl sat straight up in her car seat, breathing hard, sweating, eyes wide. It was the Dream, the dream she has had from childhood, but it was worse now. He was killed. Him. Who he was she never saw. His face was always shadowed darker than everything else, but she felt warm in his presence. He always smiled, helped her, got her out of the dream, but He was killed, gone. She tried to catch her breath. Chest heaving, she realized she fell asleep in her car outside of the restaurant.   
  
The red neon light irritated her eyes. She closed them, took a deep breath in, and slowly exhaled, leaning back in her seat. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and rubbed her temples. The Dream was getting worse. She didn't know what it ment. Well, not exactly, but could it be prophesizing or symbolizing something like those psychic people always say ? Naw...couldn't be. She shook her head, but it's getting worse. A lot worse.  
  
The dream had been recurring since as far back as she could remember. Most nights her mother would have to sit there and rock her to sleep four to five times, but her mother never complained. She would sit there and sing to Videl, drying her daughter's tears. It seemed as if she understood all the time, always there, helping and loving.   
  
But then her mother left. She had no one to turn to on those horrible nights. Those nights when she would cry aloud, but her father would do nothing to sooth her, nothing to calm her or protect her. It was then He came along. That wonderful stranger. She always believed that her mind created Him so she could survive that monster, but He always seemed so real, so kind, so good. Within the presence of evil that constantly plagued her dreams, He was always there like a shining beacon of hope. When He first entered her dream she was frightened believing another monster had come along to take away everything. He was young, about her age. He always seemed to be her age. Even now. He appeared to be around twenty, maybe even older. But she thought it was most likely her body calling out for someone to interact with that was well...her age.  
  
In this nightmare, though she always came out alive, others would perish due to her stupidity. He was next. It was His turn to die, and now she was alone again with no one to turn to.   
  
She was afraid to fall asleep a second time. What if He never came back, would her mind create a new body guard so-to-say, and would they suffer the same fate as Him and her mother?   
  
There were questions that always frightened her when she thought about the monstrosity. Why was she having these nightmares, when were the dreams going to end, and if they do, what would the consequence be to stopping them? Will people die, or will I just have to pay a psychiatrist?  
  
Sure, she has had people's life in her hands before. She was an emergency cop, a special S.W.A.T. gunman without the gun. Fighting crime she felt immortal, but fighting this demon inside her mind she felt helpless, and helplessness was one emotion she dispised. After opening her eyes and resting her hands on her lap, she took a deep breath and started the engine to her truck. The digital clock read 8:30. It wasn't too late, but she was tired and wanted to get home, perhaps to take a good sleeping pill before bed.  
  
Her eyes half shut, she warily pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. It's coming. But why?  
  
BAD CHEESE!!!!  
  
He sat at his desk upstairs looking at it. It was strange, like nothing he has ever seen before, but yet so familiar. Well, it was a doll. Dolls are common, but not this kind. It was a stuffed beanbag of a doll. The tough fabric was all white and perhaps a worn cotton. It was about six inches tall with mitten hands and feet. Typical enough, but the face was what daunted him. From the face he could tell this was no child's doll. The eyes were crudely stitched with a black thread into large X shapes and the mouth was the same, accept consisting of five or six in a strait scowl. There was another aspect that freaked him out also. There was a black threaded X over the place where a person's heart would be. He had never seen that before. The six inch doll sat lifelessly against Gohan's green desk lamp hunched over due to the unsturdy stuffing. Gohan looked over to the item that was attached to the X doll. A black headed pin secured a note to the mannequin. The paper was yellow, crumbled and it seemed to be very aged, but what was on the note is what dismayed him most of all. He couldn't read it. The note was written in Saiyan. How could anyone on Earth know the Saiyan language?   
  
Studying the note, Gohan was able to recognize a few articles such a 'the' an 'a' every now and then, but all knowledge of verbs and nouns slipped away from him long ago leaving him clueless, so he simply gave up. No use crying over spilled soup...or forgotten languages. Okay, so maybe that metaphor didn't exactly fit the situation, but you get the point.  
  
Moving his attention over to the doll once more, Gohan picked it up, but in the process knocked the pin off of the desk and onto the cream colored carpet of his study. He took no notice. Gohan held the figure in the palm of his hand and, deciding to pick up the pin later, gazed at its sluggish features.  
  
It just laid there. It seemed harmless enough.   
  
He closed his hand over the doll's torso and head trying to see if there was anything inside of it, but only beans shifted inside of the doll. Gohan shook his head and stood up. "This is just...," he stopped himself, shook his head, and sighed before putting the doll back to its position on the lamp.   
  
"I have to pee."  
  
He turned his back to the bean bag thing and left to relieve himself of the liquids he consumed at the diner. After about five minutes, the sound of a flushing toilet filled the silence in the house and eventually faded away as Gohan made his way back through his home to the study.  
  
Entering the room, he noticed the computer was on. "Hmm. That's strange. I don't remember turning it on," his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He walked over to his desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down. A pain shot through his right leg. Gohan shot up off his chair knocking it down and felt down his thigh to find out what caused the burn. His fingertips met a smooth little ball the size of a bead attaching his jeans to his leg. He turned his head and looked down. It was black. The pin. It was a good two inches long and buried all the way into his leg.  
  
A small blotch of red began to stain his jeans around the pin. Slowly grabbing the head, he quickly yanked it out of his leg and looked at it. The pin glistened red as if showing off to the world that it had indeed inbedded itself into Son Gohan.   
  
Gohan held up the pin to his face and examined it, turning it in all directions. The fact that the pin was on the chair when it had clearly fallen onto the carpet was weird enough, but something shook him. How could the pin puncture his skin if not even bullets can get through? How could the pin even cause him pain? What was this pin... Gohan looked over to his desk. The doll had fallen over from the lamp and was now laying there flat on the desk's surface. Its arms were crossed over each other and its head tilted to the side as if it was looking at him. He warily eyed the doll and then went back to the pin, then the doll again. "This is crazy. How...how can this...," once more shaking his head, he disposed of the pin into the nearby waist bin and picked up the chair before sitting on it once more. By now the screensaver had been running across the computer screen for a few minutes. His leg still stung, but it wasn't too bad. Remembering that he had quite a bit of work to do, he moved the mouse to deactivate the screen saver and noticed something was written on the screen. The deadline is dawn. Ticktock, Kanahan.  
  
Gohan's eyes widened as he timidly stoop up from his seat. Placing his hands on his desk, he looked over a the doll, arms still crossed, head still tilted. Slowly, he reached a shaking hand over to the rag doll to pick it up.  
  
It was heavy. Not nearly as light a before. He poked the doll trying to find the source of the weight. There. A lump in the doll's chest and it was...moving. Twitch, trob throb, twitch. A constant pattern, but it wasn't the beating of a heart...just throbbing.   
  
["Wait, but there was no lump before. I couldn't have missed it...could I?"]  
  
The lump squirmed frantically as if it was trying to retreat to another area to not be disturbed. Gohan yelled and quickly flung the mannequin across the room. It eventually hit the opposite wall and fell beside a leather sofa. It didn't move, but it landed once again with its arms crossed, head tilted. Staring, just staring at him.   
  
"Wha-What the hell...i-is that?" Gohan stuttered pushing himself up against the opposite wall.   
  
Thunder crashed. A bright white, blue light soared through the windows of his study. Then the storm broke. The clouds quickly unleashed their never ending platoons of raindrops onto the Los Angeles ground below.  
  
Pitpatpitpat.  
  
That continuous sound of water droplets falling on the roof reverberated throughout the two story home keeping perfect time with the thunder as if they were a symphony creating the mood for the next scene in a movie, and from the sound of it, the next spectacle was not going to be good.   
  
Gohan felt the urge to get away from that doll. Something grew inside of it, and from what little knowledge he had about dolls, he could immediately guess that there were no such things as organic baby growing rag dolls. He looked to his left and saw the hallway that led to his bedroom. Quickly shifting glances between the X stitched puppet and the hall, he inched his way over to his destination glancing back and forth to make sure the doll wasn't going to jump up and eat him or do something strange and cannibalistic like the things you see in horror movies these days.  
  
The drums of the sky made their presence known above the rain once more after sending out their preemptive strike of lightening. The room shown like a strobe light.  
  
Gohan reached the hall, closed the door - just for precaution...It's not like the doll's just gonna stand up and walk out of here...right? - , and sprinted down the hallway to his small room. Once again closing the door behind him, Gohan activated the lock and began to pace. "This just isn't right, not logical. Dolls don't ... do whatever that thing did!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "It just can't be happening. I need to get out of here."  
  
Why was this doll, this little six inch tall blob of fabric, cause him such fear? Why was he afraid to go out there and find a trusty seam ripper to kill the thing?  
  
His Saiyan instances were running wild telling him that danger lay ahead, but where was the danger?  
  
The only problem with being two species at once is the difference in how you think. One part of his mind, the Saiyan part, was screaming at him to go out there and rip up the thing before it killed him, but the other half of his mind , the human part, was quietly telling him that this thing was just a doll and couldn't do anything.   
  
["Then again," ]Gohan thought contradicting his human reasoning, ["humans don't think that people can fly without wings, and look at me."]  
  
Simotaniously feeling embarrassed and in grave danger was confusing to Gohan. He wasn't necessarily in fear at the moment, but he had no clue what was happening in his study, his own home. He walked over to the door and put his ear up to it hoping that his sensitive Saiyan hearing could pick-up something that might be happening in the hallway if the doll managed to have magical door opening skills.  
  
If anything happened, all soundly evidence of it was wiped away with the pitpat of the rain on the roof.   
  
Gohan sighed and plastered his back to his bedroom door.   
  
["How am I even sure this thing can do anything other than freak me out?"]  
  
Okay, so he had no proof that something was going horribly wrong in the current circumstances of reality, but his mind was going crazy splurting off code red warnings. His brain was going haywire with imaginary sparks and short circuits happening by the second. Any moment now smoke could start appearing from his ears.  
  
["Okay,"] he began to reason, ["If I don't have sure fire evidence that this thing is gonna try and rip my balls off, then I shouldn't be worrying this much."]  
  
Hoping that his human-made deduction was the correct one, Gohan took his back away from the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.  
  
["'s now or never."]  
  
Gohan hoped he could have made it never. 


	7. Too Much Coffee

Tri rumba boomdiay, my teacher passed away  
  
The storm had finally broke. Torrents of rain were hitting the car at a faster rate than the windshield wipers could remove them. She was practically driving blind, and her tired state didn't make it any better.   
  
Her palms were a bit clammy, but not so bad. It had only been about ten minutes since she had left the diner and she was hoping to be home soon. She would take another sleeping pill before she slept so at least she may be too tired to dream.  
  
She wanted to forget the Dream. Seeing Him torn in half before her very eyes was too much. It wasn't like most dreams where you woke up before something terrible happened, it was a dream where it made sure you were going to be afraid to open your eyes, a dream that milked out every gory fear you had and played it out before your very eyes. She would become so wired that sleeping was impossible. The Dream made all of her worst fears come to life and stopped just before finishing her off, but Videl knew the Dream never would kill her. Videl was not afraid to die, so the Dream kept her alive allowing her to remember every horrible moment. That in itself is far worse than dying, because if she died her hell of a life would be over. She would be free of this heart wrenching fear that took control of her mind each and every night. She would be away from this place, this living nightmare. Sleep should be a refuge. A place your dreams take you off to the future where you are being loved by the one you love most, where you are protected in those arms that make you feel warm and happy giving you that weird butterfly stomach, not a place of trepidation and death. Not a place where you still fear for your life when your awake. What insanity causes you to fear dying from a measly illusion created by your mind?  
  
As Videl reached a red light, she removed her hands from the steering wheel, closed her eyes tight, and rubbed her face trying to wake herself up enough to make it home. It wasn't going to be easy.  
  
When Videl was young she always had a vivid imagination known to take off and create new worlds of fantasy and wonder. She dreamt like every little girl would. She wanted to find her prince, that one person who could make her happy no matter what. She soon discovered, though, that you don't always get what you wish for, and it seemed that her mind with its own personality became depressed. From that moment on, from that little revolution, everything went downhill. She started off believing that a monster would demolish her valiant prince in battle, but soon the nightmare became more than that. As she grew older, she was introduced into the world like every child was, but when she saw all of the death and distruction, she couldn't take it. She wanted so much to help others, but being only eight, there was very little she could do. She began to think that one day, someone's life is going to be in her hands, and she won't be able to do anything. Not a thing.  
  
Her powerful mind sped her easily through school without trouble from the lack of sleep. It was easy as pie. Or cake, whichever you prefer. She had plenty of free time on her hands, which never was a good thing.   
  
The nightmare progressed for three years getting worse and worse with each failure and bad decision she made. Then her mother went away, and that was the Big Bang. The creation of an entirely new nightmare. The creation of what she dreams today. A new world of realism in its entirety. Her mind became more developed, thus her fears became more plausible. It was a never ending cycle that led her to believe that her dreams as a child were foolish apparitions. She now knew that she had wasted her childhood because none of those dreams would come true no matter how hard you tried. No matter what you do, some monster takes them away from you, and the only difference from Videl's dream to others is that, her monster took a true form.   
  
The light turned green. Green. The one thing that was always consistent in her dream was the oncoming threat of Green. The color was what terrified her most. Anything green was bad, evil, awful. Green eyes. Green eyes followed her with painful moans of women and little children. The sound of death, the death of innocents. Innocents she do nothing to help.  
  
Why green, she didn't know, but she was happy she didn't know, because she feared that the answer was more than she bargained for. So, letting Green be Green she would go on her way until the morning came to arouse her from sleep. The morning was now her last hope, and only God knew what could take away the morning.   
  
Him. Here he comes, there he went. She felt empty, as if he was truly a real person. She hoped so many things for the likes of Him. She wanted him to be real, to find someone, but she wanted Him to just be in her imagination, so such a nice soul wouldn't have to suffer such a miserable death. A death she could do nothing about.  
  
Helplessness. Damn being helpless. The feeling of not having the ability to help yourself and not knowing anyone to help you. Damn helplessness.  
  
The light still shown green. Green. The one thing she remembered that overtook the green was Him, accept he was yellow. No. Golden, shining brilliantly. No color, not red, blue, black, no color other than that Golden Essance given off by Him could melt Green like ice-cream on a hot summer day. Not even her mother could do that.   
  
A horn sounded behind her. She was jostled from her pondering. Looking through her rear view mirror she notice a ticked off trucker yelling at her to go. Tsch... as if. She sat there a little while and Videl decided to get a coffee at a nearby gas station to ease her sorrows, to get her mind off the situation, and plus it would be enough to keep her awake until she reached home, and then she could chug a few sleeping pills and enjoy the thoughts of the upcoming weekend. Yup...mhm...that sure sounded like a great idea.  
  
The horn continued to blare. Yeah...like she was moving.   
  
"Not a chance buddy...remember, patience is a virtue." Videl grinned. The one thing that Videl was a stickler for was patience and manners, and this dude had none.  
  
The light turned red. No one else was at or ever was at the intersection in Videl's presence. It was absolutely deserted.   
  
She checked in her rear view mirror once more to see how Mr. Anger Management Problem was doing. He appeared to be turning red and spouting saliva with every curse word he threw at her. Now that's not nice.  
  
His constant horn honking eventually subsided. The light was still red.  
  
The intersection still deserted, Videl flicked off Mr. Anger Management and turned right to head to the closest gas station.  
  
A grin crept up on her lips. That was fun. Teaching manners is always fun to those who could care less. Much more fun.  
  
The night seemed eerie. The constant beat of the windshield wipers, and not to mention the glowing lights of illuminated signs made the back road seem freakishly dreamy. Not like a hot guy, but like you were in a different world. Like the world in her dreams. God how she hoped she hadn't fallen asleep again, but technically, when you dream, you don't know you're dreaming, right? So she was okay. In her dreams she didn't know about the Dream itself, she was only able to make connections when she was fully awake. So she was good, in the clear.   
  
She pulled into the gas station, unbuckled her seatbelt, and reached into the back of her truck for her black jacket. She didn't want to find out if the uniform was see threw when wet. It exposed enough when dry.  
  
Craftily maneuvering on her jacket, she cautiously opened her car door and ventured out into the cascading storm. The wind blew her hair in whatever directions it wished while allowing the rain to soak her feet and all exposed skin. She walked past a big man with a John Deer cap shielding his eyes from the torrents of rain , standing outside waiting for the tank to be filled to capacity. Green. He was wearing Green. The truck man was evil. Green.   
  
He nodded, she timidly nodded back, but soon realized that he was rudly staring at her butt. She wanted to cave in his face, but kept her temper to a minimum and continued into the shelter of the wonderful mini-market. He was Green. She couldn't stand up to Green. No way no how.  
  
"But...How dare he look there!"   
  
It was her butt, Videl believed, and no man, no matter how big and strong and Green abiding, had the right to stare at it like he was. A glance is okay, but openly staring? It gave her a new strong rush of anger and fear that woke her up. Good adrenaline that you laughed about later when you thought about the reason why you were angry, and most of the time you can't even remember why exactly. It wasn't the kind she got when stopping thieves or a bank robbery, but the nice kind that gave you the sensation of a sugar rush, accept without the crash.   
  
Reaching the mini-mart, she happily went inside to escape from the deluge of rain and Green Truck Man. The lights were bright, but her eyes quickly adjusted and she want on her way to the glorious coffee machine with a squeaking sound resonated throughout the little store as her wet shoes ran against the plastic floor.   
  
She grabbed a large styrofoam cup and prepared to get a nice hot brew, but was stopped when she saw the many selections.   
  
"Mocha, French vanilla, cocoa bean, vanilla bean,....bean, chocolate Java, coffee house style ...okay....but where's the regular coffee?"   
  
She stood there tapping her foot -squeak squeak-, wondering what coffee would appease her taste-buds.  
  
Eventually giving in to a good French vanilla, though still a diehard black Folgers fan, she made her way to the front and paid.  
  
"That's one hell of a storm we got there, eh," the mini-mart clirck stated. He was small and seemed to be a Vietnamese man with his dark black hair and tan skin. No Green. He was a good man.  
  
"Huh, oh, yeah. It's pretty bad," Videl replied trying to find a nickel in her soaking pocket so she wouldn't have a take change. "Ah, there we go," she said triumphantly finding a dime and placing it on the counter. Okay, so she got a nickel back, but it's better than getting a penny. What can you do with pennies these days anyway?  
  
Looking at the front counter Videl noticed a display of multi-colored lighters. One in particular was calling her name. It was blue, with a boat tied to a dock painted around it. She picked it up and placed it on the counter. Videl didn't smoke, and never will, but she bought it anyway, slapping another dollar bill on the counter.  
  
Giving Videl her a nickel in change Vietnamese man said, "Have a nice weekend," and gave her a cheerful wave.  
  
"You too." Videl waved and stepped out into the storm once again. She sipped her coffee and took the long path underneath the refilling station to her car. The perverted Green Truck Man had already left so she was out there by herself.   
  
It was a cold night, black and rainy. She felt alone and, though it was no new-sprung feeling, she wished she had someone, something. Him. Videl stepped into her car and slammed the door. She didn't want to go home anymore. She didn't want to see her father. Their relationship had gone from her being able to ignore him to wanting to choke him to death. He was more thick-headed than any ass-staring swearing truck driver out there and could easily beat out Al Gore in her 'Most Hated Men of All Time' list. After sitting there for a few moments, the raindrops battering the roof of the car, Videl decided that going for a nice drive along the outskirts of the city would be nice. Who knows what her father was doing know.  
  
"Wait...lemme refraise that. Who wants to know what my father is doing now." She put her truck into gear and slowly pulled out of the parking lot not having a clue as to where she was heading, but for some reason, part of her was eager to get to where ever she was going to end up. There was only one slight problem, though. To go right or left?  
  
She took a sip of her coffee and sat there deciding her next choice in direction.   
  
COFFIE!  
  
Gohan breathed a small sigh of relief. The doll was still where he had left it.   
  
He walked up to it and kneeled down over the mannequin. It seemed so harmless. He grinned and picked it up.   
  
His smile faulted. The doll was heavier than before. There was no more stuffing on the inside. It seemed to be ...solid.  
  
Panic sirens immediately sounded once more in Gohan's head. The thing on the inside had grown.   
  
The long forgotten leg wound Gohan received moments earlier suddenly stung with great vengeance as his eyes widened in shock.   
  
It grew.  
  
Inside the dreadful little manlike figure, directly under Gohan's thumb, something twitched, throbbed, and throbbed again. Not as though it were a clock-like mechanism, but as though it were something alive.  
  
He snatched his hand back dropping the doll.  
  
At first, what he had felt made him think of a giant squirming insect: an obscenely fat spider or frenzied cockroach. Or perhaps a tiny rodent: some God-awful pale and hairless pink mouse like nothing has ever seen before. He turned his head away.   
  
Over the soughing wind and pouring rain, he heard a new soft sound: a soft pop...and then again. Like threads breaking. Gohan turned his disbelieving eyes once more over to the doll only being able to see from the light being given off by the desk lamp. It was laying as before, but the pair of crossed stitches over the spot where a person's heart would be had snapped and now hung loose on it's white cotton breast.  
  
His mouth was so dry that his tongue had stuck to his palate. He worked up some saliva, but his tongue nevertheless peeled loose as reluctantly as a Velcro fastener.  
  
His frantic heart hammered so hard that his vision blurred at the edges with each beat, as blood surged through him in artery-stretching quantities. He felt as though he were on the verge of a stroke.  
  
Abruptly the dangling black threads unraveled into the needle holes through which they had been sewn, disappearing into the doll's chest as if something had pulled them from the inside.  
  
"Jesus!"  
  
Gohan stumbled backward a step and nearly fell into his desk chair. He clutched the arm of it and kept his balance.  
  
Pop-pop-pop.  
  
The stitches over the thing's right eye broke as the cloth under them bulged with internal pressure. Then they, too, raveled into the doll like strands of spaghetti sucked into a child's mouth.  
  
Gohan was shaking his head in denial. He had to be dreaming.  
  
Where the broken sutures had disappeared into the face, the fabric split with a discrete tearing sound.  
  
Dreaming.  
  
The ret in the small black-white face opened to half an inch, like a gaping wound.  
  
"Definatly dreaming. Big dinner, two large cheeseburgers, five large French fry baskets, three sides of onion rings, enough cholesterol to kill a horse. Dozed off at my desk, on the couch, in the kitchen. Dreaming."  
  
From behind the split fabric came a flash of color. Green. A fierce radiant green.  
  
The cotton cloth curled away from the hole, and a small eye appeared in the soft round head. It wasn't she shiny glass eye of a doll, not merely a painted plastic disc, either, but as real as Gohan's own eyes -although infinitely stranger-, full of soft eerie light, hateful and watchful, with an elliptical black pupil as in the eye of a snake. Green.  
  
The doll twitched. It's head turned slightly more towards Gohan. Its green eye fixed on him.  
  
He felt his gorge rising, tasted a bitter vileness in the back of his throat, swallowed hard, choked it down, and knew beyond doubt he was not dreaming. He had never before nearly puked in a dream. Dreams weren't this intense.  
  
On the computer screen, the four words began to flash: THE DEADLINE IS DAWN.  
  
The stitches over the doll's second eye popped and raveled into its head. The fabric bulged and began to split again.   
  
The creatures stubby arms twitched. Its small mitten hands flexed. It pushed against the wall and rose to stiffly to its feet, all of six inches tall but nonetheless terrifying for its diminutive stature.  
  
Gohan spun away from the impossible thing that was emerging from the rag doll. Pushing aside the wheeled office chair, he crashed against the corner of his desk, stumbled over his own feet, maintained his balance, and staggered out of the room.  
  
He slammed the door behind him so hard that the house reverberated with the impact. There was no lock on it. Frantically he considered fetching a suitable chair from the master bedroom and bracing it under the knob, but then he realized that the door opened into the study beyond and, therefore, could not be wedged shut from the hallway.  
  
Now he desperately needed to protect himself. He never imagined he would ever have to use his powers against a burglar, but against a rag doll? Or from whatever was hidden inside the rag doll.   
  
As he raced through his mind on ideas on how to rid himself of this thing, Gohan wondered if he might be losing his mind. Then again, he wondered why he was even wondering. Of course he was losing his mind. Rag dolls couldn't become animate.  
  
Six inch tall humanoid creatures with freaky green eyes didn't exist.  
  
Gohan heard no movement coming from inside the room. He tried to catch his breath as he wiped a small layer of sweat from his forehead. His instincts were on fire, telling him to do so many things at once.  
  
Run. Kill it. Hide. Burn it to hell. Get away. Rip its head off. Get out NOW! Slaughter that damn doll!  
  
Gohan clasped the knob and slowly turned it, hands shaking. It was cold. Another chill went down strait to his toes and then was absorbed by the floor.  
  
He hesitated and took his hand off of the brass fixture.  
  
Gohan stared at the knob, half expecting to see it turn by itself. The polished brass gleamed with the reflection of the hall light overhead. If he peered closely enough, he could discern a weirdly distorted reflection of his own sweat-damp face: He looked scarier than the thing inside the rag doll. Damn Windex.  
  
After a while he put his ear to the door. No sound came from the room beyond- at least none that he could hear over the runaway thudding of his heart.  
  
What was the creature doing in there? Was it still ripping out of the cotton fabric, like a walking mummy unwinding its burial wrappings?  
  
He tried again to assure himself that this whole incident was a hallucination brought on by a stroke.  
  
His mother had been right. The cheeseburgers, the french-fries, the onion rings, the chocolate milk shakes- those were the culprits that had done him in. Although he was only twenty-one, his circulatory system had collapsed under the massive freight if cholesterol that he was forced to carry.   
  
Inside the study, something rattled softly.  
  
Gohan pressed his ear tighter to the paper-thin crack between the door and the jamb. He heard nothing more, but he was certain that he hadn't imagined the first sound. The silence in that room now had a menacing quality.  
  
On one level, he was frustrated and angry with himself for continuing to behave as though the snake-eyed minikin was actually inside his office, standing on his desk, shedding its white cotton chrysalis.  
  
But at the same time, instinctively he knew that he was not truly insane, no matter how much he might wish that he were. And he knew that, in fact, he also was not suffering from a stroke or a cerebral hemorrhage, no matter how much more comforting such a condition might be compared with admitting the reality of the rag doll from Hell.  
  
Or wherever it was from. Certainly not from Toys "R" Us. Not from one of those shops at Disneyland.  
  
"No delusion. No figment of my imagination. It's in there."  
  
His head was pressed so hard against the door that his ear began to ache, but still he heard no further noises.  
  
Moving back one step, he put his left hand on the brass knob. It was cool against his palm.  
  
Although he would have loved to walk out and never return, he couldn't do that. He was a homeowner. The house was an investment that he couldn't afford to abandon, and bankers seldom canceled mortgages as a result of devil-doll infestations.  
  
Gohan was strong, really strong, a first-rate fighter, and his potential assailant was only six inches tall, but he could not open the damn door. Gohan's enemies were usually over six feet tall, and frequently they were virtual giants, usually looking like steroid-pumped bodybuilders with massive biceps that made Schwarzenegger look like a sissy. Most of the time they had the power in one tenth of their body to defeat the entire military with a snap of a finger.  
  
.....they were real ugly too.  
  
Gohan finally threw off the chains of paralysis and slowly turned the doorknob. The well-lubricated mechanism didn't squeak- but if the doll was watching, it would see the knob rotate, and it might leap at him the moment that he entered the room.  
  
Just as Gohan had turned the doorknob as far as it would go, a thunderous crash shook the house, rattling windowpanes. He gasped and let go of the knob, backed across the hall, and assumed a defensive stance with both hands prepared to fire a deadly ki beam at the office door. 


	8. Bankers Don't Cancel Mortgages Due To De...

Then he realized that the crash was thunderous precisely because it was thunder. When the first peal faded to a soft rumble in a distant corner of the sky, he glanced toward the end of the hallway, where pale flickers of lightening played across the window as a second hard explosion shook the night.  
  
Embarrassed by his overreaction to the thunder, Gohan returned boldly to the study door. He opened it.   
  
Nothing leaped at him.  
  
The only light issued from the desk lamp, leaving deep and dangerous shadows throughout the room. Nevertheless, Gohan was able to see that the minikin was not on the floor immediately beyond the doorway. He stepped across the threshold, fumbled for the wall switch, and turned on the ceiling light. Quicker than a litter of black cats, shadows fled behind and under the furniture.  
  
In the sudden brightness, the minikin was not revealed.   
  
Timidly, he entered the room keeping check on everything around him. Though the insanity of being afraid of a doll plagued his mind, he could not let loose the feeling that this mannequin was more than it seemed. In a sense he believed it was more than he could ever comprehend, but what he hell could a doll do. Well for starters, a newly discovered fact in history was revealed showing that they can, number one, grow from nothing into a lizard like thing, two, they sprout arms, three, walk away, and four, become intelligent into making Gohan his prey. Prey. That word stuck in his mind. He was the prey. Not the doll. The doll wasn't fearing for it's well-being. The aura that surrounded the doll was evil. Deadly. It wanted Gohan dead. It was as if it's entire life surrounded that one purpose. To kill him. Gohan, no matter how powerful he may be, was afraid. He could not sense the doll's ki anywhere in the room, or house as a matter of fact, saying that it either was too weak for him to detect or, it wasn't a living being at all. He was being hunted by a living, breathing incarnation of Chuckie. Gohan closed the door and stood with his back against it.  
  
The doll was no longer against the wall. It had indeed moved.  
  
Under the gooseneck desk lamp were two ragged scraps of white cotton fabric. Although they were somewhat shredded, they had a recognizable mitten like shape-obviously the cloth that had been covering the thing's hands. They appeared to have been torn off-or chewed off at the wrists to free the creatures hands from confinement.  
  
Thunder crashed. Lightening sprouted. Something was going to happen. The wind started to brew once more adding to the harshness of the pouring rain.  
  
Curious as to how bad the storm was, he slowly edged his way over to the window, pulled aside the fabric drape, and glanced outside.  
  
The wind blew the tree's as if they were nothing, the rain cascaded in blinding sheets giving him a view of only the nearest landscaping.  
  
Gohan moved to the second window. He shook the drape. No lizard-like mannequin fell. Spreading the material, lifting it away from the wall and the window, Gohan leaned in, looked up, and immediately saw the minikin hanging above him, not from the liner of the drape, but from the brass rod, suspended upside-down by an obscenely black glistening black tail that had sprouted from the white cotton fabric. The thing's two hands, no longer like mittens, sprouted from ragged white cotton sleeves, were mottled black and sour yellow, curled tightly against it's chest: four bony fingers and an opposable thumb, as well defined as the hands of a human being, but also exhibiting reptilian quality, each digit tipped with tiny but wickedly pointed claws.  
  
During the two or three eerily and impossibly attenuated seconds of stunned immobility, when it seemed that the very flow of time had nearly come to a stop, Gohan had an impression of hot green eyes glaring from a loose white sack, numerous small yellow teeth that had evidently chewed open the crossed black sutures , and even a pebbled black tongue with a flickering fork tip.  
  
Then a blaze of lightening thawed the moment of heart-freezing confrontation.   
  
The minikin hissed.  
  
Its tail unwound from the brass rod.  
  
It dropped strait a Gohan's face.   
  
He ducked his head, pulled back.  
  
Hissing, the doll-thing landed on Gohan's head. It's tiny claws scrabbled determinedly through his thick black hair and pierced his scalp.  
  
Howling, he swiped at the creature with his left hand.  
  
The minikin held fast.  
  
Gohan clutched it by the back of its neck and, mercilessly squeezing its throat, tore it off his head.  
  
The beast squirmed in his grip.  
  
A wet guttural snarl issued from the minikin, and it gnashed its teeth, trying to bite his fingers, striving to sink its claws into him again.   
  
The creature's cold, slick tail slithered around Gohan's wrist, and the feel of it was so singularly repulsive that he gagged with disgust. With all of his might, he threw the beast at the opposite wall.  
  
He heard it shrieking as it flew across the room and then heard the shriek cut off abruptly as it thudded hard against the far wall, leaving a dent.  
  
The hideous minikin was crumpled on the carpet at the far side of the room, near the door. For an instant Gohan thought the thing was dead, but then it shook itself, moved.  
  
Thrusting his right hand out in front of him, Gohan took a step forward to the intruder, intending of finishing it off. The mound of drapery fabric on the floor snared his feet. He stumbled, lost his balance, and slammed into the floor.  
  
With his left cheek flat against the carpet, he now shared the murderous minikin's plane of view, though from a tilted perspective. He was staring at his diminutive adversary, which had risen to its feet.  
  
The creature stood as erect as a man, trailing its six-inch black tail, still dressed in the cotton fabric.  
  
Outside the storm was reaching a crescendo, hammering the night with a greater barrage of lightening and thunder then it had thus far.  
  
The creature sprinted at Gohan, white cotton cloth flapping like tattered banners.  
  
Gohan's right arm stretched out in front of him and fired two blasts of ki in quick succession. One of the blasts must have his the minikin, because it flew off its feet. It tumbled backward all the way to the wall.  
  
The damn thing should have been devastated, as stone dead as any human taking a blast like that to the chest. It should have been smashed, shattered, blown to bits.  
  
Instead the thing rose to its feet racking with anger. The tail slid back and forth on the floor, claws clenched, fists tightened.  
  
Gohan lay there nauseated and shaking.  
  
The thing pulled its hands into the air and looked up to the ceiling.  
  
A glowing aura escaped from the chest of the monster. Green. It moved across the room slowly, snake-like, slithering around to a destination. Gohan knew it's destination.   
  
He immediately attempted to rise to his feet and run to the door, but was frozen.   
  
No.  
  
The glowing green essence moved closer ever so slowly.  
  
He closed his eyes still unable to move.   
  
He felt it. Cold. He felt his life being drained out from his core.   
  
The pain. It hurt. So bad.   
  
His eyes shot open. He was glowing. Gold. But the light was being stolen.   
  
The golden light radiating from his body slithered away from him. He attempted to reach out, get it back, but he was paralyzed on the floor.   
  
Following the trail left by the green aura of the monster, his light, his power, his ki, his life was sucked into the minikin's chest as if is was water going down a drain. Swirling into oblivion.   
  
The minikin shrieked with delight at the stolen power. It fell into a sitting possession and sighed. It was content and clearly happy.  
  
Gohan felt empty. He had no energy, no life left within his body. His power was stolen, sucked away by this monster.   
  
But he was able to move again. Gohan slowly rose into a crawling position grabbing his heaving chest. Sweat and blood poured freely from his scalp leaving his face painted with stripes.  
  
THE DEADLINE IS DAWN.  
  
He didn't understand that message at all. What deadline, for God's sake? Who established it? What did he have to do to meet the deadline.  
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
Oh, he understood that message well enough. Time was running out. The night was passing as fast as the rain was falling outside, and if he didn't get his act together, then he was going to be toast before sunrise. He no longer had confidence in the situation. He was defenseless.   
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
He will be toast for the hungry minikin.  
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
Munch, munch. Crunch, crunch.  
  
THE DEADLINE IT DAWN.  
  
TICKTOCK, KANAHAN.   
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
I've Got a Luverly Bunch of Coconuts, Didlede  
  
Okay. So she was driving aimlessly down the Californian coast. No biggy. Even though she had no idea and where she was going to end up, or even when she was gonna go home, she thought nothing of it. Though it was still down pouring, she wasn't worried about being near the ocean at such a time. It was as if she knew where the was going, what was going to happen, and yet, she had no clue what her mind was saying. Where was she going? Why was she heading south? Why did she feel she needed to get ... wherever. Her woman's intuition had never been wrong before, but can this even be considered intuition? I mean, even a woman's mind has it's limits.   
  
So Videl wasn't worried, but she was curious as hell as to what she was doing. She couldn't turn around now. No. It would just waste time. But what time would be wasted? Why did she even know time would be wasted. Alright, so she was not only curious, but very very confused. Though, still, she was not afraid.  
  
But that nagging in the back of her mind never subsided. Yes, she drove on, and yes, she followed her will, but she felt as if she wasn't going to make it...make her deadline.  
  
She felt time slipping away from her. From her present. From her future. And her past was creeping up with dreadful memories attacking her from all sides.  
  
She went faster.  
  
She felt her heart speed up with the car.  
  
Videl was excited. She never was excited. Lately she had been running low on energy, well, for the past five years of her life she's been low on that push that would get you through the day. What dazzled her, though, was that this sudden rush power surging through her veins giving her power over reality, came at the same time she lost her power over her mind. Her dreams. It was all too much information to process for now. All she wanted to do was explode, let out all of this energy building up to the boiling point. She couldn't, though. It would waste time.  
  
All the while along the coast, her mind kept time.   
  
Ticktock.  
  
Time was running out. She knew that one thing. The only information her mind could process was that one fact. Time was slipping away, and though her destination was a mystery, she knew there was not much farther to go. But even less time remained.  
  
Ticktock.  
  
Her heart sped up, pumping adrenaline through her veins.   
  
She had to make it.  
  
Ticktock.  
  
Psychiatry   
  
Dark.  
  
He groped his way around using his hands as his new found eyes.   
  
That little monster.  
  
Having gotten a new rush of temporary stamina, he attempted to go down the stairs of his home, but failed miserably.  
  
Gohan felt as if he has worn glasses all his life, but then they were just stripped away from him. He couldn't see, hear, or smell nearly as well as he could before. Now, he was fully human. 100% home grown earthling, and that really sucked. He never knew how bad they actually had it.  
  
The lights were out.   
  
All he could here was the pitpat of rain on the roof.  
  
He didn't know where the minikin was.   
  
He was a sitting duck. Well, not a duck, but the sitting part was correct.  
  
Taptap.  
  
There it was. Not the sound of rain, but of something else, silent, but all too clear. The doll was around here. He couldn't move, the thing would hear him, but it could possibly see him already. He had to get away.  
  
He had to get out of the house.   
  
Sitting there, he realized how crazy the events of earlier were. That little lizard thing had intelligence. It could learn. It could teach. It could adapt. The little thing new how to freaking short circuit the entire house for Christ's sake!   
  
His options were short.  
  
Taptap.   
  
He couldn't fly.  
  
Pitpat.  
  
Couldn't see.  
  
Crunch snap.  
  
The monster was hunting him.  
  
The monster was playing with him.  
  
He had to move, but he couldn't. He couldn't see. His muscles were tired, his hands were shaking, he was terrified.   
  
He was trapped in the little thing's game.  
  
Using the stairway railing to balance himself, he stood up.   
  
Blind as a bat.  
  
Thunder sounded, lightening pierced the sky.  
  
There.  
  
In that short burst of light, he was able to have a good guess as to where he was, but the location of the minikin was still unknown. He knew it could see him, hear him, smell him. It took part of his life away to become part of its own being. Not only did the monster have the power of intelligence, but the power of a worrior. A Saiyan worrior.  
  
He was in the middle of the stairwell, the straight-ahead hallway at the bottom lead to the kitchen which lead to the laundry room. From there he could grope for the keys, quickly get into the garage, and drive away in his car. That sounded like a good plan. The only problem was well, the monster could trap him half way and without Gohan realizing it, the thing could jump him and rip out his eyes. But when you come to think of it, standing here isn't much better.   
  
He felt the blood on his face dry and the hair on his head had fallen flat. He knew he looked like a wreck, and if he happened to encounter anyone on his drive, well...they might get just a little freaked out.  
  
Taptap.  
  
Shit. It was right behind him.  
  
Gohan quickly spun around on the steps nearly falling over. He could see it's eyes, glowing green.   
  
Cursing, Gohan raced blindly down the last stairs, as he came off the last step, he heard a low glottal hiss. Not good.  
  
He turned right, into the dining room. The brass and milk glass chandelier shed a soft light on the polished top of the hard maple table. Good Windex, good.  
  
As Gohan pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen, the minikin squealed behind him.   
  
Good, he was in the kitchen. He turned left and rushed towards the laundry room not ten feet away.   
  
Slowing down his pace, he reached out his hand for the door knob, found it, and quickly opened the door to find his keys right on the hook where he left them. They jangled, their flat and unmusical ring chimed threatening the secrecy of his plan.  
  
The easy action pivot hinges on the door to the dining room swung so smoothly that the minikin was able to squeeze into the kitchen close on Gohan's tail( - Haha..that was a pun..sorta')   
  
With the keys ringing in his hand he didn't dare to look back, but he could hear the tiny thing's clawed feet click-click-clicking against the hardwood floor. He quickly slammed the door behind him before the minikin could follow.  
  
No lock. Didn't matter.   
  
Past the washer and dryer was the door connecting to the garage. He opened the door, walked through, and slammed it behind him.   
  
In the garage, the lights were still on.   
  
On this side of the door, the lock could only be activated by use of a key. He didn't see any point in taking the time to lock it.   
  
The big overhead garage door rumbled upward when Gohan tapped the wall switch, and storm wind chuffed like a pack of dogs at the widening space at the bottom.  
  
He hurriedly circled the convertible to the driver's side.  
  
The garage lights blanked out, and the roll-up door stopped rising still blocking half the exit.  
  
No.  
  
The minikin couldn't have gotten through those two closed doors. No way no how.  
  
Franticly Gohan pawed his way through the darkness to find the chain so he could disconnect it from the motor. He couldn't find it.  
  
Giving up he quickly went over to the roll-up door and tried to lift it. He couldn't. Damn it. He had no strength left. All of his energy was drained from him.  
  
Damn it. This wouldn't of happened if he had just gone to dinner. If he had just followed his stomach everything would be normal.  
  
Normal.  
  
He stood there, wind and rain bashing his legs.   
  
What was normal?   
  
Click-click-tap.  
  
No.  
  
"Screw the door..."  
  
He raced over to the car, hopped in, and revved the engine.  
  
Looking through his rearview mirror he expected to see the minikin in the driveway, green eyes glaring, but the a nearby street-lamp proved his feeling wrong.   
  
Putting the car in reverse, he put the pedal to the metal and crashed through the door.   
  
In the whaling wind, the roll-up door merely blew away into the neighbor's yard.  
  
He'll apologize later.  
  
Into the torrents of rain he went, switching on the windshield wipers, and continued into the street.  
  
As Gohan shifted the car out of reverse, he was stricken by an unsettling premonition: "I'll never see this place again."  
  
He was driving far too fast for a residential neighborhood, almost flying, casting up ten-foot-high wings of water as he raced through a flooded intersection, but he was unwilling to slow down. He felt that the gates of Hell had been flung open and that each creature among the legion of monstrosities seething out of those portals was intent on the same pray: Son Gohan.  
  
Maybe it was foolish to believe demons existed, and it was certainly foolish to believe - if they did exist - that he could outrun them by way of 300 horsepower sport car. Nevertheless, he drove on as if persued by Satan. (- Hehe..could be another pun.Satan..Videl...hehe. I crack myself up sometimes) 


	9. A Pryomaniac And His Car

::::::::::::::: Under da see da da da da ::::::::::::::::  
  
Minutes later, after the rhythmic drum of the windshield wipers half hypnotized him, he came out of his daze and saw that he was on McArther Boulevard, on the southern end of Newport Beach. He was traveling northwest in light traffic.  
  
The time was 10:26 p.m.  
  
He couldn't go on like this, driving aimlessly through the night until he ran out of fuel. Preoccupied as he was, he might become so inattentive that he'd skid on the rain-slick pavement and crash into another car.   
  
As Gohan crossed San Juanquin Hills Road, less than a mile from the Pacific Coast Highway, he didn't immediately react to the peculiar noise that rose from the engine compartment. When he finally took note of it, he noticed a soft rattling, a whispery scraping as of metal abrading metal.  
  
Something was loose... and working steadily looser.  
  
Frowning, he leaned over the steering wheel, listening closely.  
  
He felt a queer vibration through the floorboards. The noise grew no louder, but the vibrating increased.   
  
Gohan glanced at the rearview mirror. No traffic was close behind him , so he eased his foot of the accelerator.  
  
As the sports car slowed, the vibration did not deminish. The shoulder on the side of the road was narrow, with a slope and then a dark field beyond, and Gohan didn't want to pull over here in a severe downpour. He wasn't sure that he would be able to pull off the pavement far enough to eliminate the risk of being sideswiped.  
  
Abruptly the noise stopped.  
  
The vibration ceased as well.  
  
The car purred along smoothly like the dream machine it was supposed to be.  
  
Tentatively, he increased the speed.  
  
The rattling and scraping didn't resume.   
  
Gohan leaned back in his seat, letting out his pent-up breath, somewhat relieved but still concerned.  
  
From under the hood came a twang as of metal snapping under tremendous stress.  
  
The steering when in Gohan's hands shuddered. It pulled hard left.  
  
"Oh, God."  
  
The traffic was headed up slope in the eastbound lanes. Two cars and a van. They were not moving as fast in the rain-slashed night as they would have been in better weather, but they were coming too fast nonetheless.  
  
With both hands, Gohan pulled the wheel to the right.  
  
It responded, but sluggishly.   
  
The catastrophic twang under the hood was immediately followed by a clattering that instantly escalated into cacophony.  
  
Gohan resisted the urge to stomp the brake pedal flat to the floorboard, which might cast the car into a deadly spin. Instead, he eased down on it judiciously. He might as well have stood on the pedal with both feet, because he had no brakes. None. Nada. Zip. Zero. No stopping power whatsoever.  
  
And the accelerator seemed to be stuck. The car was picking up speed.  
  
"Oh, God, no."  
  
He wrenched the steering wheel so forcefully the he felt as though he would dislocate his shoulders. At last the car angled sharply back into the westbound lanes it belonged.  
  
Over in the eastbound lanes, the wildly sweeping glimmer of headlights on the wet pavement reflected the other drivers' panic.  
  
Then the steering failed all together. The wheel spun aimlessly through his aching hands.  
  
Gohan let go of the spinning wheel before the friction would burn his skin. He shielded his face with his hands.  
  
The car flattened a small highway-department sign, tore through tall grass and low brush, and rocketed off the embankment. It was airborne.  
  
He had been nearing the end of McArthur Boulevard when he ramped off the embankment, and the drop from the highway was not as drastic here as it would have been if he had lost control just a quarter mile back. Nevertheless, having been launched at an angle, the car was in the air long enough to tilt slightly to the right; therefore, it came down only on the passenger-side tires, one of which exploded.   
  
The safety harness tightened painfully across Gohan's chest (::drools::), clinching the breath out of him. He wasn't aware the his mouth had been open - or that he had been screaming - until his teeth clacked together hard enough to crack a walnut.   
  
Like Gohan, the engine stopped screaming on impact too, so as the car rolled, he was able to hear the fearsome and familiar shriek of the minikin. The beast's shrill cry was coming through the heating vents from the engine compartment. Gleeful shrieking.  
  
The laminated glass of windshield webbed with a zillion fissures and imploded harmlessly, and the car tumbled through one revolution and started another, whereupon the side windows shattered. The hood buckled, started to tear loose, but then cracked and crunched and twisted and jammed into the engine compartment during the second roll. With one headlight aglow, the car come to a rest on the passenger side, after two and a quarter revolutions. Or maybe it was three. He wasn't too sure.   
  
Only the web of the safety harness prevented him from falling into the passenger seat, which was now where the floor should have been.  
  
In the comparative stillness of the aftermath, Gohan could hear his own panicky breathing, the hot tick of overheated engine parts, the tinkle-clink of falling bits of glass, and rain drumming against the wreckage.  
  
The minikin, however, was silent.  
  
Gohan didn't delude himself that the demon had been killed in the crash. It was alive, all right, and eagerly wriggling through the wreckage. At any moment it could pop out and gouge his eyes. He would not be able to get away fast enough to save himself.   
  
Gasoline fumes.  
  
The battery still held a charge. The possibility of shorting wires. A spark could cause fire, and explosion.  
  
He had to move.  
  
Though still dizzy, he found the release button for the safety harness and pressed it, falling to the ground hard down into the passenger side. Catching his breath, he stood using the door handle for balance. Securing his right foot on the stick-shift gear, he hoisted his head through the window, then his shoulders and arms, and levered himself out of the wreckage.  
  
He rolled off the side of the tipped car into matted brown grass, into a cold puddle, into mud.  
  
The stink of gasoline was stronger than ever.  
  
Pushing himself onto his feet, he swayed unsteadily, stumbled back from the car, splashing through another puddle, and fell over.   
  
Because the car was on its side, he was laying next the undercarriage. From out of the machine, the minikin issued a shriek of rage and need.  
  
Slowly rising to his knees, he warily looked at the car and collapsed face first in the mud. He was too tired to move, to breathe, to live.  
  
As the bone-piercing shriek trailed into a snarl, Gohan heard the demon pounding - straining -clawing. He couldn't see, but knew very well the monster was temporarily trapped.  
  
Laying there, he knew he was fortunate to have gotten out unscathed. Of course, though, in the morning he will be crippled by whiplash and a thousand other pains because he was human now. But that is only if he lived through the night.   
  
THE DEADLINE IS DAWN.  
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
He wondered what the per hour cost of his car was, but didn't have the energy to lift his hand or calculate the hours, but then he realized it really didn't matter. It was only money.  
  
What mattered was survival.   
  
TICKTOCK.  
  
Get moving.   
  
Keep moving.  
  
THE DEADLINE IS DAWN.  
  
Get going.  
  
Keep going.  
  
Don't look back.  
  
Not until dawn.  
  
The morning will save him. The dawn, the sun.   
  
His life was spared. He had to make the most of it.  
  
He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't hear, smell, or move. That didn't matter. He had to go now.  
  
Now.  
  
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,By GOD! Is it DEAD?::poke poke:: ,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,   
  
Sometimes when we can't do anything, something comes along. Something precious, valuable. It doesn't necessarily have monitary value. No. Something much more than money. Something more than what money can give. Something that not only makes you happy, but becomes pure and true happiness in itself. Though you may not know it, this happiness my burn into love, a love that will stand forever in your heart. This something will burn in your heart forever, be there for you, for you alone, only for your purposes because that's the only reason why it was created, why it exists now. For you and you alone.   
  
You may not know why. Why it is here for you. You are nothing, nothing at all. Not special. But to this thing, you are anything, everything. To this something, you become its cornerstone, as it is yours. It needs you as much as you need it. If your gone, it's gone. If it goes away, you will fail to accept life. This something is more important than anything in your heart because it was not only made for only you, but was given in your greatest time of need, when you were at your low, your weakest point. This something knows your strengths, weaknesses, hopes, dreams, and it will do any and everything to accomplish its mission - your happiness - because if it doesn't , than its existence is useless.   
  
Never give up on who you are, what you wish for, or what you believe, because this something may be there for you throughout eternity. Until the end of time.  
  
Forever and always.  
  
Do not fear eternity, because then you are fearing time. Time is not to be feared, but charished. Accept your time, your life, no matter what causes you to doubt.   
  
For Videl, that doubt was love. Love and they will get hurt.   
  
Her something was gone, and yet she continued forward through time, trying, praying that maybe.   
  
Just maybe.  
  
Maybe it isn't all gone.  
  
Not yet.  
  
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,., Look at meee!! I'm a peeeeeeea!.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,  
  
It was cold. Freezing. Bone-chilling.  
  
It was raining. Pouring. Disgorging.   
  
It was muddy. Oh, yes, it was muddy.  
  
It smelled. Smelled like crap.  
  
Smelled like crap, looked like crap, thus it was indeed crap.  
  
He was laying in mud - which he verified was strikingly similar to pooh - face first, which was rather foul to the schnoz. It was raining. He was soaked, cold, dirty, smelly, bashed-smashed-and crashed, tired, sore, being chased by an incarnation of Satan, and lost his brand now car.   
  
Oh, yeah, and it was raining.   
  
He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream.  
  
This shouldn't be happening. He should be at home, watching TV. Or even better yet, sleeping in his nice warm bed. Warm. Clean.  
  
...Dry.  
  
If it wasn't for this thing he could be happy nestled in his home, snuggling with a pillow. But no. He was out here. Cold. Wet. Dirty.  
  
Damn that thing. Damn it to hell.  
  
He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, body soaking wet. Dripping. His entire front was smothered in brown, chunky, mud. The blood was washed from his scalp and face, but was replaced by dirt.   
  
Damn that thing to the pits of hell.  
  
"Y-you hear me?" He kneeled back, sitting on his heels. "Burn. Burn i-in hell, you-you scum."  
  
He rose slowly to his feet, swaying, looking at the ground. Glaring.  
  
"Die, damn you," Gohan demanded. He clenched his fists.  
  
Gasoline, which was evidently pooled under the length of the car, ignited. Blue and orange flames geysered high into the night, vaporizing the falling rain.   
  
In the distance, someone shouted.  
  
The great hot hand of the fire slapped Gohan with such fury that his face stung, and he was staggered backward by the force of the blow. There had been no explosion, but the heat was so intense that he surly would have been set afire in that instant if his hair and his cloths had not been thoroughly soaked.  
  
Shaking his head and blinking through the rain, Gohan noticed that two cars had stopped along the highway where the convertible ran off the roadway.  
  
At he foot of the embankment stood bystanders startled by the fire.  
  
An unearthly squealing rose from the trapped minikin.   
  
With a boom and a splintery crack like bone breaking, the battered and burning hood exploded off the engine compartment and tumbled past Gohan, spewing sparks and smoke as it clattered toward a stand of Phoenix Palms.  
  
Like a malevolent ginie freed from a lamp, the minikin flung itself from the inferno and landed upright in the mud, no more than ten feet from Gohan. It was ablaze, but the streaming cloaks of fire that had replaced its white fabric shroud did not seem to disturb it.  
  
Indeed, the creature was no longer shrieking in mindless rage but appeared to be exhilarated be the blaze. Raising its arms over its head as if joyfully exclaiming hallelujah, swaying almost in a state of rapture, it fixed its attention not on Gohan but on its own hands, which like tallow tapers on some dark altar, streamed blue fire.  
  
"Bigger," Gohan gasped in disbelief.  
  
Incredibly the thing had grown. The doll on his doorstep had been about six inches long. This demon swaying rapturously before him was about eighteen inches tall. Furthermore, its legs and arms were thicker and its body heavier than they had been earlier.  
  
"This is nuts," he muttered.  
  
The falling rain captured the light of the wildly leaping fire, carrying it into the puddles on the ground, which glimered like pools of melting dabloons and flickered with the shadow of the capering minikin.  
  
How could it possibly have grown so fast? And to add this much body weight, it would have required nourishment, fuel to feed the feverish growth.   
  
What had it eaten?  
  
Impossibly, the rhapsodic minikin appeared to swell even larger as the flames seethed from it.  
  
What had it eaten?  
  
Gohan began to back away slowly, overcome by the urgent need to flee but reluctant to turn and run. Any too sudden movement might remind the demon that its prey was nearby.  
  
The rain washing parched panic through him, and his fear was like a fever burning in his brow, in his eyes, in his joints.  
  
"Screw this."  
  
He turned and ran for his life.  
  
He didn't know where he was running to, but just away.  
  
His feet reluctantly moved through the deep mud, releasing his legs unwillingly. Every step he took his feet buried deeper into the soaking ground.  
  
He reached the steep incline of the embankment and went on his hands and knees, scrambling himself up the hill. His foot slipped, making him fall down a few feet, but he sunk his hands into the mud and continued to pull. Pull for his life.  
  
The people who stopped at the top of the embankment were too far away to see him run trough the blinding sheets of rain. They could only witness the inferno, the menacing explosions.  
  
Flat ground.  
  
He pulled himself up over the ledge, hoisting with his arms and digging aimlessly with his legs. He was out of the embankment.  
  
Get going.  
  
Keep going.  
  
He ran, ran for his life because now he had evidence. Evidence that the monster could indeed rip off his balls. He had to get as far away as possible.  
  
THE DEADLINE IS DAWN.  
  
Tomorrow's sunrise hung out there just a few minutes this side of eternity.  
  
Having crossed an empty lot on the diagonal, Gohan reached the corner of Pacific Coast Highway and Avocado street, skidded across the last stretch of mud like an ice-skater in a frozen pond, and plunged off the curb into the calf-deep water the overflowed the gutters at the intersection.  
  
A car horn blared. Brakes screeched.  
  
A Ford truck appeared magically -poof!- as if from another dimension. The truck stopped an instant before Gohan, rocking on its springs, but he couldn't prevent running into it full tilt. He bounced off the fender, spun around to the front of the vehicle, and fell to the pavement.  
  
Clutching the truck, he immediately pulled himself up from the blacktop.  
  
As the driver's door opened, the night swung with Benny Goodman's big-band classic 'One O' clock Jump.'  
  
As Gohan regained his feet, the driver appeared at his side. She was a young woman with white shoes, what might have been a nurse's pink uniform, and a black jacket. "Hey, are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, okay," Gohan wheezed.  
  
"You're really okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, leave me alone."  
  
He squinted at the rain-swept vacant lot.  
  
The minikin was out there. Coming closer. Fast. Too fast for comfort.  
  
"Go," he told her, waving her away with one hand.  
  
The woman insisted, "You must be-"  
  
"Go, hurry."  
  
"-hurt. I can't-"  
  
"Get out of here!" he said frantically, not wanting to trap her between him and the demon.  
  
He pushed away from her, intending on running somewhere. He didn't know where but he had to get away.  
  
Get moving.  
  
Keep moving.  
  
The woman clutched tenaciously. "Was that your car back there?"  
  
"Jesus, lady, it's coming!"  
  
"What's coming?"  
  
"It!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"It!" He tried to wrench loose of her.  
  
She said, "Was that your new convertible?"  
  
He realized , then, that he knew her. The waitress. That waitress.  
  
Gohan had the queer sensation that he was riding the bobsled of fate, rocketing down the luge chute toward some destiny he couldn't begin to comprehend.  
  
"You should see a doctor," she persisted.  
  
He wasn't going to be able to shake her. She wouldn't let him and he knew that.  
  
When the minikin arrived, eighteen inches and growing with a spiky crest along the length of its spine, bigger claws, bigger teeth, it would rip her throat out, tear her face off.  
  
Her slender throat.  
  
Her lovely face.  
  
He didn't have time to argue with her. "Okay, a doctor, okay, get me out of here."  
  
Holding his arm as if he were a doddling old man, she started to walk him around to the passenger side.  
  
Damn how he hated being week. He should not need a human to help him make it do a door only feet away. How dare she think he was truly week. He could have stopped that car with a blink of an eye, and he should have. He was once and may possibly still be the strongest being in the universe, he is not some weakling who can't fend for himself. He should be considered a god with his strength.  
  
Well, at least he should have been. Now, even though he knew he was strong for a human, still, he was weak, useless, and for Pete's sake, he was normal.  
  
For how long had wished, hoped, dreamed that this day would come. Possibly everyday for months, years, his whole damn life. Yeah, it wasn't just a life, but a damned life. His life was destined for Hell. That bobsled was taking him for a ride strait to that fiery underworld of torment, suffering. He would not stand for it.  
  
How many times had he given his life for others and not taken anything for it but a pat on the back and a dead father.   
  
A long gone father whose death lay solely in his own shoulders.   
  
He could not take the weight, even with the power to destroy a galaxy, he could not handle the fact that he couldn't do it. He was a failure, imperfect.  
  
Perfection.  
  
Saiyans were the perfect worriors, the strongest in the universe, and he was the most powerful of them all, nevertheless, he still failed.  
  
He strived his entire life to become strong so he could make his father proud.   
  
That's all he ever wanted to do. Make dad proud. But now all he had left from trying to gain his father's approval is a muddy face-plant and no life.   
  
Now, dad was dead, he was weak. No. Pathetic. Useless. Ignorant. He was a failure. The God damn strongest failure in that niche in the wall we call space. He was nothing now. He was normal for Christ's sake.  
  
Normal.   
  
Pathetic.  
  
Useless.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Nothing but a stupid man who can't freaking walk to a forsaken door.  
  
Enraged, Gohan wrenched his arm from her annoying grasp. "Drive the damn thing!" he demanded.  
  
Gohan hobbled to the passenger door and yanked it open, but the waitress was still standing in front of her truck, stupefied and outraged by his outburst.  
  
"Move or we'll both die!" he shouted in frustration.  
  
He glanced back into the vacant lot, expecting the minikin to spring at him out of the darkness and rain, but it wasn't here yet, so he clambered into the Ford.  
  
The woman slid into the driver's seat and slammed her door an instant after Gohan slammed his.  
  
Switching off the radio, she stared the steering wheel and asked, "What happened back there? I saw you come shooting off the road into the-"  
  
"Are you stupid, deaf, or both?" he demanded, his voice shrill and cracking. "We gotta get out of here now!"  
  
"You have no right to talk to me that way," she said quietly but with visible anger in her crystalline-blue eyes.  
  
Speechless with frustration, Gohan could only sputter.  
  
"Even if you're hurt and upset, you can't talk to me that way. It isn't nice."  
  
He glanced fearfully out the window. Scanning the lot, he felt unsettled and aggravated. Why wasn't she listening?  
  
She said, "I can't abide rudeness."   
  
Forcing himself to speak calmly, Gohan said, "I'm sorry."  
  
"You don't sound sorry."  
  
Damn it, it's coming.  
  
"Well, I am."  
  
"Well, Mr., you don't sound it."  
  
Gohan thought he would kill her rather than wait for the minikin to.  
  
"I'm genuinely sorry," he said.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I'm truly, truly sorry."  
  
"That's better."  
  
"Can you take me to the, uh, hospital," he asked merely to get moving.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Thank you," he said making sure not to get her going on rudeness again.  
  
"Put on your seatbelt."  
  
"What!?"  
  
"It's the law." She looked at him, as if to force her point into his brain and to say 'You mess with me, I'll kick your ass.' So he unreeled the shoulder harness and locked it across his chest.  
  
Her hair was raven-dark and lank with rain, pasted to her face, and her uniform was saturated. He reminded himself that she had gone through some trouble for him.  
  
"Please, miss, please, you don't understand what's happening here-"  
  
"Then explain. I'm neither deaf nor stupid."  
  
That hurt.  
  
For an instant the improbability of the night left him without words again, but then suddenly they exploded in a long hysterical gush: "This thing, this doll, on my doorstep, and then the stitches pulled out and it had a real eye, green eye-"  
  
The waitress's eyes widened, mouth opened slightly. She looked baffled, in shock.   
  
"-rat's tail, dropped on my head from behind a drape, and it pretty much could eat bullets for breakfast, which is bad enough, but the thing is, well, it's also smart, and it's growing-"  
  
Snapped out of the trance, she said, "What's growing?"  
  
Frustration pushed him dangerously close to the edge of rudeness once more: "The doll snake rat-quick little monster thing! It's growing!"  
  
"A-a doll rat-quick little monster thingy?" she repeated.  
  
"No. This-this can't be."  
  
"Yes! Monster thingy!" he said exasperatedly.  
  
With a wet thunk, the shrieking minikin hit the window in the passenger door, inches from Gohan's head.  
  
Gohan screamed.  
  
The woman said, "Holy shit."  
  
She quickly buckled her seatbelt.  
  
"Shit. Not now." she said through her teeth, aggravation strewn across her face.  
  
The minikin was growing, all right, but it was also changing into something less humanoid than it had been when it first began to emerge from the doll form. Its head was proportionately larger than before, and repulsively misshapen, and the radiant green eyes bulged from deep sockets under an irregular bony brow.  
  
The waitress released the emergency brake. "Knock it off the window."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Knock it off the window now!"  
  
"How, for God's sake?"  
  
Although the minikin still had hands, its five digits were half like fingers, half like the spatulate tentacles of a squid. It held fast to the glass with pale suckerpads on both its hands and feet.  
  
Gohan wasn't going to roll down the window and try to knock the thing off. No way.  
  
The waitress shifted the Ford into drive. She stomped on the accelerator hard enough to punch the truck into warp speed and put them on the far side of the galaxy in maybe eighteen seconds.   
  
As the engine shrieked louder than the minikin, the tires spun furiously on the slick pavement, and the Ford didn't go across the galaxy or even the end of the block, but just hung there, kicking up sprays of dirty water from all wheels.  
  
The minikin's mouth was open wide. Its glistening black tongue flickered. Black teeth snapped against the glass.  
  
The tires found traction, an the truck shot forward.  
  
"Don't let it in," she implored.  
  
"Why in heaven's name would I let it in?"  
  
"Don't let it in."  
  
"You think I'm insane?"  
  
"Yupp." She nodded.  
  
"Wha-why?" His voice cracked.  
  
"You ran into my car."  
  
"You were driving it!"  
  
"You disobey the law."  
  
"It's a freaking seatbelt."  
  
"You look scary."  
  
"I'm being chased by Satan!"  
  
She looked at him, "You have your hand on the window button."  
  
Gohan pulled his hand away from the button.  
  
The Ford truck was a rocket, screaming north on the Pacific Coast Highway. Gohan felt as if he was pulling enough g's to distort his face like an astronaut in a space-shuttle launch, and the rain was hitting the windshield with a clatter almost as loud as a submachine-gun fire, but the stubborn minikin was glued to the glass.  
  
"It's trying to get in," she said.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Then get your hand of the freaking button!" Gohan once again realized his hand was tightly gripping the handle on which the button lay.  
  
"God, what the hell does it want?" Gohan asked.  
  
"You," she said.  
  
"No really," Gohan said with a sarcastic tone.  
  
"It wants you dead."  
  
"How the hell would you know?"  
  
"Well, for some obvious reason, you just piss it off."  
  
The beast was still mostly mottled black with yellow, but it's belly was entirely a puss yellow, pressed against the glass. A slit opened the length of its underside, and obscenely wriggling tubes with suckerlike mouths slithered out of its guts and attached themselves to the window.   
  
The light inside the truck wasn't good enough to reveal exactly what was happening, but Gohan saw the glass beginning to smoke.  
  
He said, "Uh-oh."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Its burning through the glass."  
  
"Burning?"  
  
"Eating."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Acid."  
  
Barely braking for the turn, she hung a hard left off the highway into the entrance drive of the Treesdale Country Club.  
  
The truck canted drastically to the right, and centrifugal force through Gohan against the door, pressing his face to the window, beyond which the minikin's extruded guts wriggled on the smoking glass.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Country club," she said.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Van," she said.  
  
She turned sharply to the right, into the parking lot, a maneuver that pulled Gohan away from the door and the dissolving window.  
  
Gohan grasped the door handle.  
  
"Button," she implored.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
She smirked. "Now you're getting it. Next we have to work on 'Thank You'."  
  
At that late hour the parking lot was mostly deserted. Only a few vehicles stood on the blacktop. One of them was a delivery van.  
  
Aiming the truck at the back to the van, she accelerated.  
  
"What are you doing!?" he demanded.  
  
"Detachment."  
  
At the last moment she swung to the left of the parked van, roaring past it so close that she stripped off the paint from the front fender and tore off the truck's right mirror. Showers of sparks streamed from tortured metal, and the minikin was jammed between the truck window and the flank of the big van. The rocker panel peeled off the side of the truck, but the minikin seemed tougher than the Ford - until its suckers abruptly popped loose with a sound Gohan could hear even above all the other noise. The window in the passenger door burst, and tempered glass showered across Gohan, and he thought the beast was falling onto his lap, Jesus, but then they were past the parked van, and he realized that the creature had been torn away from the truck.  
  
"Want to circle back and run over the damn thing a few times?" she shouted over the howling wind at the broken-out window.  
  
He leaned toward her, raising his voice. "Hell, no. That won't work. It'll grab the tire as you pass over it, and this time we'll never shake it loose. It'll crawl up and get us one way or another."  
  
"Then let's haul ass out of here." She pulled out of the parking lot, and put the pedal the metal with less respect for the speed limit than she had shown earlier.  
  
"Jesus, slow down," he demanded.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's the law," Gohan said jokingly.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Well, running through a red light is illegal too, ya know."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
She smirked, "You flew through that intersection, with a red light might I add, like Hell was on your ass."  
  
"Well, it was."  
  
"True," she nodded, "Very true. But you know that's still illegal."  
  
"Ugh! You're impossible."  
  
She shook her head, "No, just a woman." 


	10. Hungry Little Devil

----Minikin: I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog too (Gohan: Woof!)----  
  
This was all to weird for Videl. The monster, is was alive. It was true, real. How the hell did that happen?  
  
It was everything she ever dreamed about. Everything. The body, the claws, teeth, the eyes. Oh God, the eyes. They radiated a green much more sinister than she ever imagined. It was weird, scary.  
  
Absolutely terrifying.  
  
What was worse, though, is that she could almost feel its thoughts. Feel what it wanted to do, what it wanted most, and it wanted that man.  
  
She turned and looked at the man she met at the restaurant. He was flinching every so often from the large amount of rain streaming through the shattered window. Why would it want him? Though he was a dork, he had nothing of importance in her life. He was nothing but a man who appeared magically as if from another dimention.  
  
Then it hit her. Another dimention. What if he...  
  
Could he really be?  
  
-Santa smurf does not exist (Smurfs: attack with poisonous mushrooms)-  
  
She finally reduced her speed after crossing a bridge over the back-bay channel. The noise of the wind abated somewhat.  
  
Gohan glanced over to the woman, feeling uneasy under her intense gaze. She looked at him in a way no one looked at him before, as though he were purple, warty, with a head like a watermelon, and just stepped out of a flying saucer.   
  
He cleared his throat nervously and said, "You're a, uh, pretty good driver."  
  
Surprizingly she smiled, "You really think so?"  
  
"Actually, you're terrific."  
  
"Thanks. You're not bad yourself."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"That was some stunt with the convertible."  
  
"Ha ha. Very funny."  
  
"You went airborne pretty straight and true, but you lost control of it in flight."  
  
"Eh, sorry about your truck."  
  
"It comes with the territory," she said cryptically.  
  
"I'll pay for the repairs."  
  
"You're sweet."  
  
"We should get something to block this window."  
  
"But don't you need to go to the hospital?"  
  
"I'm okay," he assured her. "But the rain's going to ruin your upholstery."  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
"But-"  
  
"It's blue," she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The upholstery."  
  
"Yeah," he checked," blue. So?"  
  
"I don't like blue."  
  
"But the damage-"  
  
"I'm used to it."  
  
"You are?"  
  
She said, "There's frequent damage."  
  
"There is?"  
  
"I lead an eventful life."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"I've learned to roll with it."  
  
"You're a strange woman," he said.  
  
She smirked. "Thank you."  
  
He felt disoriented again. "What's your name?"  
  
"Videl," she said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Videl Payne Satan. P-A-Y-N-E. It was a hard birth, and my mom had a weird sense of humor."  
  
He didn't get it. And then he did. "Ah." He nodded.  
  
"People call me Del."  
  
"Del. That's nice."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Kanahan Son." He startled himself. "I mean Gohan."  
  
"Kanahan Gohan?"  
  
"Kanahan nothing. My name is Son Gohan."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Most of the time."  
  
"You're a strange man," she said, as if it pleased her, as if returning a compliment.  
  
"There is really a lot of water coming in the window."  
  
"We'll stop soon."  
  
"Where'd you learn to drive like that, Del?"  
  
"My mom."  
  
"Some mother."  
  
"She's a hoot. She liked to race stock cars."  
  
"Not my mother."  
  
"And powerboats. And motorcycles. It has an engine, my mom wanted to race it."  
  
Videl braked at a red traffic light.  
  
They were silent for a moment.  
  
Rain poured as if the sky was a broken dam.  
  
Finally Videl said, "So, Kanny... back there ... That was the doll snake rat-quick little monster thingy, huh?"  
  
END OF PART ONE::jiggs::  
  



	11. I Dub TheeTofu Boy

beans. I GOT SOME REVIEWS!! ::is happy:: Kay, I decided to say heck with it and start uploading the next chapters. Now I'm gonna start uploading in a somewhat regular fassion cause I'm trying to typ out as must as I upload.

Hope you enjoy the beginning of part two! (And thankyou so much to the ppl who reviewed...I LOVE YOU ALL!!)

Part Two  
  
The passion of it all, the expression of the colors and the lovely power of provoking emotion. Passion being the key word. No matter what the message, colors, depth, shapes, or texture; passion could always be felt through art. When most people hear art they picture the burray and easel and a concoction of colors on a canvas that is as vague to them as a foreign language. But many have always felt that art is everywhere. You can take any object or scene and portray an emotion, statement, anything you want.  
  
Some choose to create beauty as their art, but not all.  
  
The sun, for instance, shows beauty, shining brightly over the Earth. It is portrayed within art and worshipped when captured in a still frame. The dark, however, also has the ability to be captured on canvas.  
  
The canvas can be chosen by the artist. They can choose something as simple as paper or parchment. On such easily obtained objects the creator shall usually choose to instill upon the paper their talents of beauty, precision, and patience.  
  
But a skilled creator, someone with rich imagination free of the boundaries of this world, needs no parchment, needs no paint or brush. They have the talent to create a masterpiece, something to marvel and aw at. Something beautiful. Something so brilliant and breathtaking is created from this person, not from hand, but from their mind.   
  
Over centuries, artists have chosen art as release, a way to express their feelings about a moment in time, about a group of people, about their love, hate, anguish, and dispare. They have always relied on man-made items to display their emotions, so what would happen if someone with a talent beyond all others had the power to input their greatest fears, hopes, and dreams onto the world we know?  
  
The world is their canvas.  
  
Though this person would have the talent of no other to ever exist on this planet , what would happen when they lost control over when they chose to create a masterpiece and when they didn't?  
  
What would be unleashed upon the world?  
  
""""""""All the pretty colors.....""""""""  
  
The lights were bright, fluorescent. A total change from initial dark and dreary night outside.  
  
Total opposites.   
  
In the light, it was warm and welcoming, proof that the world does still indeed function even if your own life is in danger. The light, like civilization, knows nothing. It goes on day by day providing and giving, like civilization is capable of. But the dark on the outside knows all. It sits there like a predator, waiting for you to return to it's clutches, to its nightmares. It doesn't care, doesn't give, but it knows. Knowledge is power.   
  
Power is everything, and as of now, Gohan had none.  
  
The night, the dark, it has power. No matter how much light there is, darkness will always exist, but can you say that the other way around? Will there always be light, or is light doomed to perish like all that is good in this world?

"""::shrugs::?????  
  
"You like tofu?" Videl asked carrying a little shopping basket filled with cardboard, paper towels, duck tape, Quick Wrap, orange juice, and some candy bars.  
  
"What?" Gohan was dripping wet, leaving big sloppy footprints around the isles Del had ordered him to scout for what they needed.  
  
"Tofu. Do you like."  
  
"I know what you said."  
  
"Then why did you say 'what'?  
  
"Tofu."  
  
"What about it? You have something against tofu?" She walked past the milk cartons, Gohan following close behind.  
  
"No. I thought your question was just a little random. That's all." Gohan picked up some cheese-sticks and threw them into the basket.  
  
"No." Videl pulled the cheese-sticks out of the carrier, "Cheese gives me gas. Now put them back." She shoved them at his chest and continued down the row of refrigerated items.  
  
Gohan fumbled the cheese and said, "But you don't have to eat them."  
  
Videl stopped, turned around and began to walk back to him. "I'll be tempted. I love cheese, and I'm doing you a favor by saying 'no'. Now," she grabbed his upper arm and began pulling him down the cold foods section, "we have to keep moving. The doll snake rat-quick little monster thingy is still alive, remember?"  
  
She sure remembered.   
  
The eyes. Those green eyes. Just like her dream. But how? How could it be real? How could he be real? Oh, Him.   
  
If the man behind her was really 'Him' than that monster was going to stop at nothing to kill Gohan.  
  
Gohan. That's a nice name. A nice name to go along with a nice guy. Though he was moody at the moment, she could tell he was a good person. He had to be if he was Him.  
  
What scared Videl most was the question, ' If he survives tonight, will it come back again tomorrow, and the next day?'  
  
Videl glanced back at the man. He was stumbling behind her looking like crap. She couldn't blame him though. He lost his new car, he was wet, muddy, being chaced by an imortal being, and probably injured, but that wasn't it. She new he lost something more. Something more precious that couldn't be replaced. What could it be?  
  
In her dreams, he would come and he would be shining, like a knight in armor, but this man didn't have that glow. She would have been able to see it. To see his lightwould have been easy, like seeing he had black eyes- which was pretty wierd-. Nonetheless, he had no light.   
  
So then why the hell would her monster be after him?  
  
"Oh, I completely forgot. How stupid of me." Gohan rolled his eyes, stumbling from her strength, or maybe it was his lack of it. After dragging him to the last refrigerator, Videl stopped, shook her head, and pulled open the door to grab a container to place into the basket.  
  
Gohan reached down and picked up the new food item. "Tofu. Ah, tofu... I don't like tofu."  
  
Videl snatched the box from Gohan's grip and shoved it back into the basket. "I knew you had something against tofu."   
  
"Well, so what if I do?"  
  
"It's healthy."  
  
"So is cheese."  
  
"We went through this. Cheese gives me gas."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"You should."  
  
"You get tofu, I get cheese."  
  
"I get tofu and you leave the cheese alone."  
  
"Can I at least get one cheese-stick?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Aw, common!"  
  
"No."  
  
"Your worse than my mother."  
  
"I'm stubborn."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"I know, not think."  
  
"That was rhetorical."  
  
"Then don't ask me."  
  
"I wasn't asking you."  
  
"You're eating tofu and that's final."  
  
"I don't want to eat tofu."  
  
"Tofu reduces the risk of prostate cancer."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Well, don't come crying to me when you wake up one day with prostate the size of a basketball, Tofu boy."  
  
Gohan stopped.  
  
"What?" Videl asked.  
  
"The window's broken."  
  
"And?"  
  
"You can sit next to the broken window and I won't smell a thing."  
  
"A broken window won't fix anything. It'll still be rancid."  
  
"Well, I can hold my breath, so if we time it right-"  
  
"We are not getting any freaking cheese!"  
  
"You suck." Gohan stuck out his tongue.  
  
"Well, at least you won't get prostate cancer, Tofu boy."  
  
"Who said I was eating the tofu?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"I'd like to see you try and make me."  
  
"I'm worse than your mother, remember?"  
  
"Oh don't you dare try and be my mother now."  
  
Videl smirked, "Try and stop me."  
  
"""""""::piffs:: oops..I uh..didn't do it .....""""""""""  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"Hate is such a strong word, Videl." Gohan bit into one of his numerous cheese-sticks.  
  
"God, I hate you."  
  
"Heh heh. You failed to realize that, like my mother, you are about a foot or two smaller than me."  
  
"No. I never failed to notice that. I just hate you for finally see my lack of height. Tsch, took you long enough anyway, dork."  
  
Videl bent over the steering wheel trying to find somewhere along the highway to safely park the car and fix the window...and maybe steal some cheese from Gohan.   
  
Rain still pouring, wind still blowing, she couldn't see much past the headlights, but found an overpass looming in the distance that might be suitable for short-time shelter.  
  
Gohan munched happily on his cheese-sticks.  
  
Easing on the brakes, Videl pulled the car off to the side of the road and hopped out.  
  
"Come on. I'll need your help, Tofu boy."  
  
"Stop calling me that." Gohan secured his cheese safely back into the grocery bag and jumped off his damp seat and out of the car.  
  
He stood there and looked around.   
  
The downpour continued to slam the pavement and the thunder rumbled onwards. A truck passed overhead sounding as if a jumbo jet was about to land.   
  
The dark shadows in the corners frightened him. He could still feel it coming. Closer and closer. They shouldn't have stopped, but leaving the window shattered was a hindrance. Gohan turned around half expecting to see the monster standing there just outside the overpass, larger. It had to still be growing. He wondered how big it was now.  
  
"Kannahan-"  
  
"Gohan."  
  
"Whatever, just soak up as much water from the seat as you can." Videl threw the roll of paper towels at Gohan and he went to work.  
  
While Gohan soaked up the water, Videl started fixing the window.  
  
First she used a pocket knife to cut out a piece of cardboard the size of the window and covered it in Quick Wrap. She then fixed it to the window and used duck-tape to secure it snugly.  
  
A cold wind blew chilling Gohan.  
  
While doing the tedious job of drying the blue upholstry, Gohan began to think. -Which was never a good thing. He could get a headache-  
  
He knew that if it wasn't for Del he would probably be dead by now. Laying in a gutter somewhere. Yupp. Eyeballs ripped out and a finger thrown here and there. Not a good picture. Nope. But he wasn't laying in a ditch or gutter, he was standing here. Alive. Not well, but alive. All because of Del. She helped him when she didn't have to, and she continued to, but he couldn't let her. If she got hurt, if she died, it would be his fault.  
  
And he couldn't live with that.  
  
Another beautiful life, full of kindness and compassion, dead because of him. Okay, well, maybe she does get bad mood swings, and she may act a little wierd here and there, but don't all women?  
  
Overall, allowing her to help him was putting her life in more danger than she realized. That thing was far more intelligent than she knew and her staying here...  
  
That's it. He would have to go on alone. Just find a car and go off driving, hoping that the thing doesn't know how to drive too. Praying to not run out of gas before dawn. It would be slim, but he could do it. No big problem, right?  
  
Wrong. In the back of his mind, he knew. That thing was smart. It could learn. Though driving away into the wild blue yonder may seem logical, it wasn't full proof. What if the deadline really wasn't dawn? What if it still was alive when he returned home - if he lived long enough to do so - and he was then slautered?   
  
Either way, he felt an obligation to protect Del. The fact that she had to help him bothered Gohan. He was the man, he protected her. That was it, plane and simple. He had to protect her, and the the only way to do that that was in his power now was to leave her behind and go off himself. He had to do it. Though he may no longer have his Saiyan powers, he was still strong and he knew how to fight. That was all he needed. Okay, and maybe a gun would be nice...  
  
"Del."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Gohan paused.   
  
He couldn't keep her in danger. He would have to continue by himself, stop endangering her life. He wasn't worth it. Not at all.  
  
"Could you drop me off somewhere?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Gohan threw aside another soaking paper towel. "Somewhere I can get a car."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well,uh...Look. Thanks and all for helping me and all, but I need to do this on my own, stop putting you in danger."  
  
"No can do."  
  
"I'm being serious, Videl."  
  
"So am I. I smushed it. That doll snake rat-quick little monster thingy has to have something against me also and-"  
  
"God, Videl! Don't you understand? It'll rip you to shreds if it has the chance!"  
  
Videl took a deep breath trying to suppress her frustration, "No. It won't"  
  
"...Excuse me?"  
  
"It just won't, okay. And don't you for once think I can just leave you somewhere and go home like nothing happened. Okay? We are finishing this night together and that's final,"she said quietly but stern.  
  
Videl threw the remanding items in the back seat and hopped in the car. "Now come on. We have to keep moving."  
  
Videl slammed her door.  
  
"But-"  
  
"No buts damnit!" Videl exploded, "I am your only fucking chance of surviving this night! Now get in the god damned car!"  
  
Gosh. He was trying to be nice and let her go, but instead she got pissed. Must be that time of the month...  
  
"Get in now or it'll catch up."  
  
"How do you know it won't hurt you, Videl? Huh? How can you be so sure!? I can't let you risk so much for me! You don't even know who I am and yet your here, doing this. Saving my damn life! I don't care wha-"  
  
"Get in the damn car, Son Kannahan Gohan fucking Tofu boy! Get in now ."  
  
"I'm not going to let you die becuase of me!"  
  
"How many time must I say this? It won't hurt me..." Videl glared ahead as she usually did, refusing to look into his eyes.   
  
"How can you be so God damn sure!?"  
  
Videl snapped her head towards Gohan. Something was wrong. She felt it. For the first time she looked deeply into Gohan's eyes, absolutely terrified.  
  
The wind howled under the overpass bringing a small spray of cold water with it.  
  
Gohan shivered as he looked at Del. Her eyes were no longer a clear royal blue, but dark, haunting pools of liquid in a bottomless ocean of confusion and torment. Those oceans bore into his sole, slowly eroding his defenses, looking deep within him, wave after hypnotic wave.   
  
Another wind came, bringing no water, but a bone rattling chill accompanied by a black shadow that swept across the night, dissolving everything before his eyes.  
  
He was once more trapped in a black void. Nothing was everywhere, and where matter once stood there was not a trace of its existance. This was the place, the place of birds and feathers. Not a good place to be.  
  
Birds and feathers.   
  
He loved birds. So beautiful. So elegant. Mesmerizing.   
  
He began walking around nothing. He didn't know why, but he was.  
  
For what seemed like hours, he continued to walk, not seeing or hearing anything but his own footsteps. Shouldn't something have happened by now. A revolation of some kind, something to help him survive. To last until dawn.  
  
Birds.  
  
Is that all he truly remembered, then? Darkness, nothingness, emptyness. Is this what summed up his life? A living void of nothing going through life having those he loved vanish before his very eyes, and killing those responcible. Not possible. He had happy memories, but...  
  
Could it truly be? Was this the sum of his life?   
  
_Crunch snap._  
  
Gohan flipped around only to realize he was making the noise_.  
  
Crunch crunch.  
_  
Dead leaves. Twigs.  
  
Trees surrounded him on all sides. Light was still hidden behind countless layers of blockades, not allowing a single ray to pass.  
  
The brush was thick. That will make navagation difficult.  
  
_"Navagation to where?"  
  
Crunch snap._  
  
Gohan stood still and perked his ears, listening.  
  
_Snap snap crunch snap._  
  
In the not too far distance he heard the sound of something sprinting through the forest.  
  
He felt compelled to follow.  
  
With delicate grace, he maneuvered around the tree's in a silent dimeanor.  
  
In his pursute, his hearing picked up a second set of chrunch-snapping, following the enital footsteps closely.  
  
His adrenaline pumped.   
  
He ran faster, streching his strides to the breaking point. He won't make it.  
  
Abruptly, the first thing fell with a thud as it came into his sights.  
  
His heart jumped.   
  
To his right, in the darkness, a pair of radiating green eyes appeared out of nowhere.   
  
He was tossed backwards slamming against a nearby tree. Beside his left was a three foot fallen branch. Quickly standing, Gohan picked it up and dashed towards the eyes.  
  
He felt urgency towards the death of whatever this monster was. It had to die, now. Before it killed the other one.  
  
Holding the branch as a baseball bat, Gohan bashed the monster on the side of it's eyes, supposively it's temple area.  
  
Hearing the thing collapse, he ran over to the fallen creature. A woman was on her knees, trying to push herself up with her hands.   
  
Gohan quickly went to help her and extended his hand.  
  
She turned her head to look at him.  
  
Del.  
  
Gohan smiled and leaned forward to help her stand.  
  
Her face suddenly went pale, the whites of her eyes growing.  
  
Everything went black.  
  
What was that? What the hell just happened?  
  
She was so terrified. Her eyes...  
  
He stopped and looked around the void once more trying to see if a new scenery appeared, or if he would have to wait a few more hours.  
  
He heard wings flapping in the distance. The birds tantalized him, their sounds echoing throughout this void of darkness.   
  
He spun around only to be bombarded by a blinding white flash, knocking him backwards.  
  
Rage, hatred. He felt powerful. It was unlike any rage he felt before. A rage driven by malevolence alone. A soulless fury.  
  
Suddenly, a rain swept street appeared before his eyes, and looked far down the long road in the middle of nowhere. What was this place?  
  
The rain slapped his face and pounded the road with vehemence, but he didn't care. He wanted, no, absolutely needed what was down that road. He needed to torture it, ravage it, kill it. His lone rage was so powerful he was prepared to lose everything to gain that rush of the capture, that intense kill. He would lose everything.  
  
He was confused. He never wanted to kill anything, but now...now the need was so strong. So furious.  
  
He began walking, staring intently down that road, not knowing what he was looking for, but knowing that once he found it, it must die.  
  
Die before dawn.

Have a nice day....CAFE!


	12. Hello, I'm a pyrotechnic, and I play wit...

Next chapter up!!!! Enjoy!

Bad.   
  
Holding Gohan's limp body in her arms she felt it, it was coming, and it was pissed.  
  
She new she wasn't supposed to find this man in her arms. She should have been at home, drinking coffee while sitting on the couch all dry and ready for bed.  
  
But she couldn't allow herself to long for that. This man in her arms was her future. Forget about what she could be doing now, because tomorrow, if he survives, she might be happy.  
  
She might be happy with him.  
  
Right now though, she had to make him survive. She knew something was taken from him. His gift that made him so special had been stolen, and now he had nothing. She felt that much from his eyes before he collapsed. So once again, she was here, muttering things to herself while sitting on the cold pavement, trying to slap this dope out of whatever type of trance-like thing he was in, and the worst part was that this man had to weigh three hundred pounds. How the hell will she get him in the car when Green comes?  
  
Heh. Green. She named the monster Green. Such a silly name. Like naming your pinky-toe Pinky.  
  
...Why the hell was she thinking of feet at a moment like this?  
  
Bad. Bad.   
  
It was coming, taking it's time, as if it knew she was helpless.  
  
Helpless.   
  
No damnit. She was not and never will be helpless. Helplessness was inexcusable, insufferable, intolerable.  
  
Videl moved Gohan so his back was sitting up against the car - with her support of course - . She then bent at the knees and hugged him tightly around his chest and under his armpits.   
  
"Come on, buddy." Gohan's head fell to the side when Videl began heaving with all her might.  
  
"Please...you...dork." Del spout, grinding her teeth as she rhythmically pulled up every few seconds trying to get Tofu boy into the car.  
  
Giving up, Videl released her grip and stoop over him with her hands on her hips.  
  
Bad. Bad. Bad.  
  
"What the hell are you made of?" Videl said slightly short of breath. He was thin and in obvious good shape, so how could he be so heavy?  
  
Now she was really pissed. She wasn't weak. She knew she had pushed around bigger guys than Sleeping Beauty over here. She could take down men the size of Shaq and not be winded, but here she was, not even able to get Tofu dork and inch off the ground.  
  
"When this night it over your going on a diet, buddy."  
  
By now her hair had half dried into a rat's nest of sweat and mud and her clothing was uncomfortably damp with her shoes squishing every step she took.   
  
Another wind swept through the overpass.  
  
Traffic had died down leaving the area in a sound-filled silence. The rain had not let up, allowing a visibility of no more than ten or twelve feet from your face.  
  
She couldn't see it, but she knew it was close. With so many shadows and the reverberating effect of the rain under the road, the monster could be almost invisible.  
  
Almost.  
  
Videl quickly walked over to the gas tank of the truck and undid the cap.  
  
Bad. Bad. Bad. Not good.   
  
She knew she had to act fast, or Tofu boy may have no tomorrow to start his diet...and to start his new life...with her.   
  
Not if he dies.  
  
GOTCHABAGOOSE!!  
  
In a wave of shadows everything once more dissapeared. He was encroached in blackness again, but it wasn't the same. This shadow wasn't a vast nothing, but it was full of sense provoking sounds and smells.  
  
Sight was not an issue yet.  
  
He heard rain, but he didn't feel it slashing across his face. He felt wind blowing over his body and smelled something wreched riding along with it.   
  
In a whirl of dark blues and blacks, another scene awoke before his eyes.  
  
Twenty feet away stood a truck, headlights burning, and front passenger window was in makeshift shape. He felt immense hatred toward that truck and whoever was on the other side.   
  
With one swift movement, he dashed to the other wall of whatever shelter these beings hid under. He crouched in the shadows once more.  
  
He saw her. He felt a strange connection to her, but that didn't matter. That bitch wasn't supposed to be here. He then noticed what she was doing. Sitting inside her automobile, her right foot was pushing against the passenger seat and the other was against the stick shift. Dangling halfway from the truck was a man, the man who was supposed to die.   
  
Pulling as hard as she could, she hoisted the rest of the man's body up in the seat, his head dangling unconsioucly. She then exited the vehicle, moving out of sight.  
  
He was perplexed, not understanding the situation.  
  
But that didn't matter. Now was his time to act.   
  
He sprung from the darkness, running to the open door in which that man lay. He then stopped noticing the ground was wet. Before he could react, everything went red.  
  
::grabs matches:: MWAHAHAHAHAHA  
  
With a scream, Gohan awoke, something strangling his chest as he shot forward.   
  
His head snapped to the right, noticing an intense heat radiating off his skin.   
  
A huge fire blazed not fifteen feet from the car with an ear-piercing screech eminating from it's core. The inferno reached the hight of the overpass, scorching the top.  
  
Glaring at the fire he sunk back into his seat in pain. He was sore and his skin was stinging. His back ached and his hands were chaffed.   
  
His eyes continued to look at the fire. It grew and grew, spreding swiftly, like it was alive.  
  
Suddenly his door slammed shut and seconds later, he saw Del sitting next to him, shoving a lighter into her pocket.  
  
"Sure, so now you wake up..." Videl said putting the car into drive and shooting the vehicle off into the pouring rain leaving the fire ablaze behind them.  
  
He could hear the pounding rain barrage the roof one more.  
  
"I didn't know you smoked," he said wearily.  
  
"I don't."  
  
Gohan grunted.  
  
"What the hell heppened to you?" Videl asked, frustration rising in the tone of her voice.  
  
Gohan sighed and rolled his head to the side. It hurt like hell and his body was irradicly tingling. His vision blurred in and out of focus with every pulse of his heart and he felt sick to his stomach, and not to mention his legs were large blobs of numbness.   
  
He had no clue what just happened. None whatsoever.  
  
One second he was having an argument with Del and then...then...he was...  
  
"So, you going to tell me what happened to you or what?" She increaced the speed of the truck dramaticly.  
  
Gohan grogily turned his head to his left and glared at Videl.  
  
Another grunt escaped his lips.  
  
"...Right," Del said sarcasticly.  
  
How did she expect him to tell her what happened when he didn't even know himself?  
  
"You just konked out in the middle of a sentence, Tofu boy. You scared me for a sec." Her tone eased a bit as they drove down the road further away from the fire.  
  
They continued to drive down some highway or another for a few more minutes before Del's patience ran dry.  
  
"Look, talk already. You freaking whailed when I lit the fire. You have a bad history with matches or something?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. That was pretty cool back there," Gohan said leaning against the door.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Cool my ass, Kanny." Videl took her eyes off the road to look at Gohan for a moment and then quickly glared through the windshield again.  
  
"My ass is cool too, but right now it hurts like hell."  
  
Videl made right turn to merge with another highway. "So, are you going to tell me why you pulled a sleeping beauty back there?"  
  
"You think I'm beautiful?" Gohan said, using a high pitched southern accent to accompany his statement.  
  
Videl sighed, "My God. Of all the idiots in the world..."  
  
"Hey, that wasn't nice."  
  
"Neither is keeping a secret."  
  
"Fine I'll tell you then."  
  
"It's about time."  
  
He grinned, "I don't know what happened."  
  
"You don't know," Videl said, a little dissbalieving.  
  
"Yeah. I don't."  
  
Biting her lower lip, Videl said with a consealed anger, "Well, you better tell me what you do know so we can make sure it won't happen again."  
  
"How can I tell you what happened when I don't even know?"  
  
"Look," Videl clutched the wheel, "do you have a medical problem or somethi-"  
  
Gohan shook his head, halting her statement. "No, no. That's not it."  
  
"Then what _is_ it?"  
  
"_I_ was it."  
  
Videl sat motionless for a moment. "Whoa, buddy, hold on a sec-"  
  
"I was the monster. It was like...well, I felt its thoughts, its intentions, its anger. I felt its connection to you." Gohan rolled his head to look at Videl. She was pale. "Tell me. Why the hell is that thing connected to you? You said it wouldn't hurt you...now tell me why."  
  
"I don't know what your saying, Tofu boy," Videl stated with a calm face but shaky voice.  
  
"Liar, liar, pants on fire."  
  
"I-I'm serious, Kanahan."  
  
Gohan flinched at the name, "So am I, Del."  
  
Videl sighed and glanced at Gohan once more. His body hadn't moved the entire car ride. He was just moving his mouth, not bothering to try and use the rest of his movable parts, like he thought they wouldn't work.   
  
Gohan was him, so he should understand...right? But then again, he was also the monster. That certainly suprized her.  
  
"It...I...well, I sort have a gift that isn't really a gift, but more like a curse thing, but I'm not cursed, not like a mummy, this gift just really, really sucks, not making it really a gift but a natural born talent that's more like a natural born ability, but best described as gift that isn't really gift like."  
  
The rest of his body never moving, Gohan said hoarsly, "And, this sucky gift...what is it?"  
  
"It's really hard to explain. You see," Videl took a deep breath and exhaled, "Since I was little I have had dreams, more like nightmares actually, and in them someone would die. Then in real life, the person would dissapear, sorta like..."  
  
"Kinda like being a psychic." Gohan paused, "Hey, you could be Miss Cleo..."  
  
Videl rolled her eyes and continued on saying, "I soon figured out that they died due to freek accidents, like things I most feared, things that wouldn't happen in a million years. Everyone of importance died and I now know it's because of my mind, but, look, all I know is that...long story short, my mind created this monster and it wants to kill you because, not only do you piss it off, but...."  
  
"What?"   
  
She couldn't tell him. She couldn't get the words to come out of her mouth, like they were stuck in her throat, tapped forever. To make up for the hesitation, she used the only thing she could. Humor.  
  
"I wants your mom..."  
  
"Now that's just queer."  
  
Videl continued, "And, you see, it won't kill me because it knows that death, for me, would be an easy way out of my shitty life."  
  
There was a short silence. "So, you freaked out or something?" Videl asked.  
  
"Naw. You're not half as bad as me. This is actually a lot better than I thought it would be. You know, you could have pulled and Alien 3 and been the monster's mother. Now that would have been scary."  
  
Videl chuckled. "I pretty much am it's mom, dippis."  
  
"Did it come from your tummy?"  
  
"Well, no, but-"  
  
"Then you're A-Ok in my book."  
  
"You have a book?"  
  
"Yupp. It's a King novel."  
  
"Freaky."  
  
Videl slowed the car down and slouched in her seat.  
  
"Videl," Gohan said in a serious tone, "why not just kill yourself."  
  
"Sometimes when I really think about it...tomorrow may be better. Ya know? And I think that if I end it now, then I miss the happiness that could have been."  
  
"Happiness?"  
  
" Like...you see, a while ago I discovered a man in my dreams, a man that protected me. I now, well, think that man could possibly be you...a-and, if I can keep you alive untill sunrise...you'll ...you'll..."  
  
"I'll what?"  
  
Videl paused a few moments, "I can't remember...You'll do...nothing. Yeah. Never mind. Nothing."  
  
For the next ten minutes, Gohan serenaded Videl to Nothing Man.  
  
I'm a little tea pot who does professional wrestling


End file.
